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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

























































































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THE CAPTAIN’S DOG. 

By Louis Enault $0.50 

THE GOLD THREAD. 

By Norman MacLeod, D.D 50 

HOW TOMMY SAVED THE BARN. 

By James Otis 50 

J. COLE. 

By Emma Gellibrand 50 

JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER. 

By Hesba Stretton 50 

LADDIE. 

By the author of “ Miss Toosey’s Mission ” . .50 

MISS TOOSEY’S MISSION. 

By the author of “ Laddie ” 50 

A SHORT CRUISE. 

By James Otis 50 

THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 

By James Otis 50 

For sale by all Booksellers, or sent postpaid upon receipt 
of price, by the publishers. 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY, 

NEW YORK AND BOSTON. 





"A GUST OF WIND SWEPT DOWN UPON THE CANVAS STRUCTURE.” — p. 50 





THE 


WRECK OF THE CIRCUS 


AUTHOR OF 


BY 



JAMES OTIS 



“how tommy saved the barn,” “a short cruise,” 



ETC. 



NEW YORK: 46 East Fourteenth Street 

THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY 

BOSTON : 100 Purchase Street 




Copyright, 1897, 

By Thomas Y. Crowell & Company. 









\ 


\ 


c. J. PETERS & SON, TYPOGRAPHERS, 
BOSTON. 









V 

CONTENTS, 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Temptation 1 

II. The Opportunity 20 

III. The Search 36 

IV. The Disaster . 52 

V. After the Storm * ... 66 




VI. Repentance 


81 























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THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE TEMPTATION. 



VERY available space in the town of 
Berwick- whereon a placard could be 
displayed to advantage was occupied by 
the gorgeously colored posters of the “ Great and 
Only Circus, Royal Amphitheatre, and Grand Ag- 
gregation of Living Wonders under one canvas, 
and to be seen for one price of admission.” 

Even before the “ Great and Only’s ” advertis- 
ing-car had been side-tracked at the station, 
nearly every boy in the village knew that the 
circus was coming ; and when the bill-posters set 
about their work, they had a greater following 
than could have been induced to accompany the 
commander-in-chief of the United States Army 
if he had chanced to visit Berwick. 

The boy who did not know, even to the minutest 


2 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


detail, all that the proprietor of the “ Great and 
Only” advertised to show his patrons would indeed 
have been a curiosity. Those who were prevented 
from going into the streets because of sickness 
received the deliciously thrilling information from 
their more fortunate friends ; the deaf could and 
did see the wonderful pictures of impossible ani- 
mals, and those who were blind heard all the par- 
ticulars concerning the coming show from their 
comrades who had full command of both tongue 
and eyes. 

In fact, the juvenile portion of the population 
talked of little else from the moment the mam- 
moth placards appeared ; and when they did 
change the conversation, it was to speculate as to 
how the necessary money with which to purchase 
a ticket could be procured. 

As a matter of course, the majority of the young 
people in Berwick had good reason to believe their 
parents would provide ways and means for a visit 
to this extraordinarily enormous exhibition, even 
though a definite promise had not already been 
made ; yet there were some whose minds were not 
so satisfactorily at rest, and among these last 
were Teddy Dunham and Phil Barton. 

It was on the day before the 66 Great and Only” 
was advertised to make its appearance in town, 


THE TEMPTATION. 


3 


that the two met quite by chance in front of the 
largest collection of posters ; and from the expres- 
sion on the face of each, the most casual observer 
would have said the boy was either extremely un- 
happy, or suffering severe pain. 

“ No ; I haven’t got the money,” Teddy said in 
reply to his friend’s question. “ Mother says she 
can’t spare it now, times are so hard ; an’ I haven’t 
had a single chance to earn so much as a cent. I 
don’t see why the circus people charge such a big 
price. I bought a ticket for the last show, an’ 
only paid a dime.” 

“ That’s ’cause it was a little one. This is the 
biggest that has ever come to Berwick.” 

“ Will your father let you go ?” 

“ He says he don’t care what I do, if I’v.e got 
the money ; but he ain’t throwin’ twenty-five 
cents away, no matter how good a show it is. He 
tries to make me believe these bills don’t tell the 
truth ; but the circus folks wouldn’t dare promise 
to bring such things if they didn’t mean it, would 
they?” 

“ Course not. Besides, Joe Turner’s aunt’s 
hired girl went to this same show over in Belle- 
ville, an’ she said there was a good deal more 
in the tents than is pictured out here.” 

“Don’t you s’ pose there’s some way we can 


4 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


earn two twenty-five-cent tickets between now 
an’ to-morrow mornin’, Teddy ? ” 

“ There doesn’t seem to be much chance now,” 
Master Dunham replied gloomily ; and an instant 
later added in a more hopeful tone, “ anyway, 
Phil, I ain’t goin’ to give up tryin’ till after the 
show has opened. Why, only two weeks ago, 
when I wasn’t expectin’ I’d get enough to buy that 
pair of skates from Si Jordan, old Miss Hackett 
hired me to lug in her wood, an’ I earned thirty 
cents in less’n an hour.” 

“ If you only had that now ! ” 

“ Don’t I wish I had ! Si could keep his old 
skates ; for w r hat good will they be till winter 
comes ? ” 

“ I wouldn’t buy skates in the summer, not if 
I never had a pair to my name.” 

“ You won’t catch me bein’ so foolish again; 
but they was cheap, an’ I had the money. Si 
said he didn’t believe I’d ever seen so much as 
twenty-five cents all in one lump, an’ I wanted 
to show him I had. Say, Phil, will you go with 
me to see the show before it gets into town ? ” 
“ Course I will ; I was countin’ on doin’ that 
much, anyhow.” 

“ We’ll start by daylight, an’ walk as far as the 
cross-roads.” 


THE TEMPTATION. 


5 


“ Come over to my house for me ? ” 

“ Sure ; but you mustn’t hang ’round primpin’ 
after I get there, ’cause we want to strike in 
ahead of the show. I sha’n’t wait, even to wash 
my face.” 

“ I’ll be ready,” said Phil; then, as if just re- 
minded of hisv duty, he hastened to carry to Mrs. 
Harkins the message with which his mother had 
intrusted him a long while previous, at the same 
time cautioning him not to loiter by the way. 

Two hours later the friends met again in front 
of Atwood’s store, and there was an expression of 
deepest gloom on Phil’s face which caused Teddy 
to ask solicitously, — 

“ What has happened ? Have your folks shut 
down on the circus, even if you can earn money 
to buy a ticket ? ” 

“ They might jest as well have said I couldn’t 
go ; for mother an’ father are reckonin’ on leavin’ 
early to-morrow mornin’ for a visit to Aunt Han- 
nah, an’ won’t be back till evenin’. It seems 
queer that they must take circus-day for it, when 
there’s nothin’ to stop ’em from goin’ any other 
time.” 

“ I can’t see but you’ll be all right if we get a 
chance to earn money enough to pay our way in,” 
Teddy replied carelessly. 


6 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“Do you think it would be all right if you’d 
got to take care of a baby from mornin’ till night ? 
Why, I won’t have so much as a chance even to 
see the show when it comes into town.” 

Teddy gave vent to a prolonged whistle, ex- 
pressive both of surprise and dismay. 

Now he no longer withheld the sympathy his 
friend claimed, and said in a tone of commisera- 
tion, — 

“ Well, you are in a fix, an’ no mistake ! Don’t 
you s’ pose there’s the least little chance you 
could take the baby down to the cross-roads ? ” 

“ Now, see here, Teddy, how do you think little 
Sam could get that far ? ” 

“ He walks all over town, an’ must be as much 
as three years old.” 

“ What of that ? He couldn’t travel five miles, 
could he ? ” 

“Well,” Teddy replied hesitatingly, “I don’t 
know very much about babies, an’ that’s a fact ; 
but it seems to me, if you went slow, an’ stopped 
a good many times to rest, he could get there 
somehow. Besides, you an’ I might carry him 
part of the time.” 

“You wouldn’t talk ’bout luggin’ him if you’d 
tried it once. He’s heavier than* lead ; I couldn’t 
carry him from here up to the house.” 


THE TEMPTATION. 


7 


“ Then, what are you goin’ to do ?” and Teddy 
spoke impatiently, as if, in a certain degree, he 
blamed his friend for the unfortunate combination 
of circumstances which threatened to deprive him 
of so much pleasure. 

“ Do ? Why, I’ll have to stay home, of course ; 
an’ when the show comes all I’ll see of it will be 
when it goes by the house — perhaps it won’t 
even do so much as that.” 

Judging from appearances one would have said 
the tears were very near Phil’s eyelids at this in- 
stant ; and Teddy hastened to say soothingly, — 

“ There ain’t any use in gettin’ all down to the 
heel about it, ’cause perhaps it can be fixed some- 
how.” 

“ I’d like to know how you’re goin’ to fix any- 
thing. Father an’ mother’ll be sure to go away, 
an’ I’ve got Sam on my hands till night. A feller 
would have to be mighty smart to rig up a plan 
for me to go to the circus while that young one 
must tag after every step I take.” 

“ Why not let him go with us ? ” Teddy cried, 
as what seemed like a very happy thought pre- 
sented itself to his mind. “If we can earn the 
money to buy ourselves tickets, perhaps we can 
get one for him. I ain’t so certain as they’d 
charge a whole quarter for a little shaver like 


8 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


Sam. Jest as likely as not we could run him in 
for nothin’.” 

Phil remained for an instant in a meditative 
attitude, and then, his face brightening decidedly, 
asked eagerly, — 

“ Do you s’ pose it could be done, Teddy ? Of 
course Sam wouldn’t be any bother to us after we 
once got into the show, ’cause he’d be lookin’ at 
what was goin’ on.” 

“ It ain’t certain we’ll get into the circus our- 
selves ; but if we do, I’ll bet we can take him 
with us. It wouldn’t pay to let your father an’ 
mother know what we’re countin’ on.” 

“Why not ? ” Phil asked quickly, almost startled 
by the suggestion. 

“ ’Cause they’d be sure to say you mustn’t do it.” 

“But I’d be in an aw T ful fuss when they got 
home.” 

“I don’t see how you make that out. If you 
should say anything ’bout it now, your father 
would put his foot right down, ’cause he’d think 
you couldn’t work it ; but if we carried the plan 
through all right, an’ it didn’t cost him anything, 
of course he wouldn’t care. The baby’d have a 
good time, your folks wouldn’t be out any money, 
an’ I’d like to know what he could make a fuss 
over ? ” 


THE TEMPTATION. 


9 


“ But mother’ll be sure to tell me to stay in the 
house all day so’s there sha’n’t anything happen to 
Sam.” 

“ She’ll say that ’cause she’ll be afraid to have 
him go to the show ; but when they come home 
an’ find he’s been there an’ got back as sound as 
ever, she’ll be glad he’s had a good time.” 

Phil did not feel positive that this was a sound 
argument ; but he was eager to believe all Master 
Dunham had said, therefore but few additional 
words were necessary to convince him that he 
would really be doing the baby a great favor if he 
acted upon Teddy’s suggestion. 

After an exceedingly brief struggle with his 
conscience the matter was ended, so far as he was 
concerned, and once more came the question as 
to how the necessary amount of money might be 
procured. 

This was a problem which Teddy could not 
solve as readily as he had the one regarding Sam ; 
but he replied confidently, as if firmly believing 
his own assertion, — 

“ We’ll get it somehow, an’ don’t you make 
any mistake. I’m goin’ to settle right down to it 
for the rest of this day ; an’ if I strike a job that 
two of us can work at, you must turn to an’ do 
your share.” 


10 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ Of course I will. You don’t think I’d be such 
a chump as to lay still while you was earnin’ 
money for me as well as yourself ! Come over to 
the house if you find anything, ’cause I’ve got to 
stay there pretty close while mother’s gettin’ ready 
to go away.” 

Again the two friends separated, this time feel- 
ing more confident that they would be able to 
visit the circus, because some of the difficulties 
in their way had apparently been swept aside so 
readily. 

While he had been talking with Teddy, Phil 
gave little or no heed to the fact that it would 
probably become necessary to disobey his parents’ 
positive commands in case this plan of taking the 
baby to the circus was carried into effect. 

Now that he was alone, however, he began to 
realize to what he had committed himself, and the 
prospect was far from pleasing. 

“ Mother will be certain to make me promise to 
stay ’round the house all day, an’ of course I shall 
have to agree,” he said to himself. “ Then 
father’s bound to talk ’bout the circus, an’ how 
I am to keep Sam away from it, an’ I’ll have to 
make another promise ; so by the time they leave 
I’ll be tied up in such a way that it will be a 
terrible snarl when I start out for the show.” 


THE TEMPTATION. 


11 


Then, for an instant, he mentally resolved he 
would resist the temptation, obey strictly such 
injunctions as his parents might place upon him, 
and deprive himself of the long-anticipated pleas- 
ure, with the hope of gaining such satisfaction as 
comes from the knowledge of having done right. 

While he was feeling strong enough to resist the 
temptation of following Teddy’s suggestion, he 
arrived at that portion of the street where the 
posters of the “ Great and Only ” were most con- 
spicuous ; and here he very foolishly allowed him- 
self to gaze upon the glaring pictures once more. 

With the wonderful feats before him which 
the advertisements promised, Phil’s determination 
strictly to obey his parents grew more and more 
feeble, until, by the time he was ready to turn his 
back on the alluring placards, he had very nearly 
resolved to do as Teddy proposed. 

“ I just wish it would rain to-morrow,” he mut- 
tered discontentedly, “for then it wouldn’t be 
half so bad to stay in the house takin’ care of that 
bothersome baby ; but it will be my luck to have 
the sun shinin’ bright, an’ everything goin’ at full 
blaze, so I can’t mind father an’ mother, no matter 
how hard I try.” 

Not less than a dozen times from the moment 
of his second parting with Teddy Dunham, until 


12 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


his eyes were closed in the unconsciousness of 
slumber, did Phil resolve to do that which he 
knew to be his duty, and as many times did he 
waver in his resolutions. 

Just before he went to bed, his mother said in 
such a tone as she believed was best calculated to 
impress her commands upon his memory, — 

“ I want you to realize, Philip, how much re- 
sponsibility we are putting upon you. There are 
few boys of your age who could be trusted to take 
care of a child like Sammie; but I have every 
confidence in you.” Here Phil mentally winced. 
“ You won’t have any trouble with the baby dur- 
ing the forenoon ; for there will be so much going 
on in the street, owing to the coming of the circus, 
that he’ll be perfectly content to sit on the door- 
step by your side. I fear you may have some 
little difficulty in the afternoon, when he has 
grown tired. Be patient with him, Philip; re- 
member that Sammie is only a baby, and harsh 
words would frighten rather than soothe him. It 
is possible he may sleep an hour or two, in which 
case your task will be so much the lighter. I am 
sorry you are to be deprived of the pleasure of 
going to the circus, but at some time in the -future 
I will try to compensate for what you may lose in 
the way of enjoyment to-morrow. I know you’ll 


THE TEMPTATION . 


13 


be a good boy, Philip, and that there is really no 
reason why I should feel any anxiety concerning 
the baby.” 

“ I don’t see why she had to talk that way,” 
Phil said to himself when he was alone in his 
room. “ I’d had it hard enough to do as Teddy 
planned without that ; an’ now it seems as if I 
couldn’t make up my mind to take Sam to the 
show, no matter how much money we may have 
a chance to earn.” 

Then once more came into his mind the thought 
of what might be seen inside the huge tent which 
was to be erected on the morrow, and again it 
seemed almost impossible for him to follow the 
dictates of conscience. 

The morning on which the “ Great and Only ” 
was to exhibit in Berwick dawned as bright and 
fair as Phil Barton could have desired had his 
parents decided he might visit the circus. 

“ I reckon by this time Teddy an’ the rest of 
the fellers are watchin’ the show-people get ready 
to come into town,” Master Barton said to himself 
with a long-drawn sigh as, in obedience to his 
father’s summons, he scrambled out of bed. “ I 
did hope it would rain to-day ; but nothin’ hap- 
pens to help me through.” 

While hurriedly making his toilet Phil gave 


14 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


more thought to the question of how he could 
evade his parents’ commands than to the princi- 
ple that he should obey them ; and when he came 
down-stairs there was in his mind a reasonably 
well-defined idea that it was absolutely necessary 
for him to do as Teddy Dunham had suggested. 

It was a great relief to him as the moments 
went by that his mother, fully occupied with her 
preparations for the journey, did not repeat the 
conversation of the previous evening; but when 
the carriage was at the door, and she ready for 
departure, Phil was forced to listen to what, under 
other circumstances, would have been decidedly 
pleasing. 

“ I know you can be trusted, Philip, therefore 
I need not explain in detail what you are expected 
to do. Remember that Sammie is only a baby, 
and be patient with him. If we are not home by 
sunset, put him to bed, and lie down by his side 
until he falls asleep.” 

Then the carriage was whirled away ; and Phil 
was left with Sam and his conscience, which last 
companion was at this moment particularly 
troublesome. 

“At any rate, I didn’t promise I wouldn’t 
go,” he said to himself, wondering not a little why 
this fact did not give him greater satisfaction. 


THE TEMPTATION. 


15 


“ Mother can’t say I told a wrong story, if — but 
what’s the use of fussin’ ’bout it now ? Jest as 
likely as not Teddy won’t find a chance to earn 
money, an’ then we couldn’t go, even if Sam 
wasn’t ’round to bother.” 

The baby did not appear to be particularly well 
pleased at being left alone with his brother, and 
during the next half-hour Phil had quite as much 
as he could attend to in the way of entertaining 
Sam. 

He finally succeeded in his efforts by telling 
him of the wonderful sights they were to see that 
forenoon ; and, as can well be imagined, the con- 
versation served not only to pacify the baby, but 
still further to weaken the feeble resolution yet 
remaining in Phil’s mind regarding the perform- 
ance of his duty. 

It was not yet seven o’clock when an unusual 
commotion on the street told that the “ Aggre- 
gation of Living Wonders” was approaching the 
town. 

Now a herd of ponies was driven rapidly to- 
ward the vacant lot on which the “ Great and 
Only ” was to exhibit ; and then the same diminu- 
tive steeds would dash wildly down the street 
again, going, as Phil knew, to help swell the 
ranks of the coming parade. 


16 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


It seemed as if every boy of Master Barton’s 
acquaintance who had not journeyed to the cross- 
roads to witness the preparations for the entree , 
made it his especial business to stop at the house 
for a chat with Phil regarding the all-engrossing 
event ; and after each visitor had departed the 
amateur nurse was more than ever resolved to act 
contrary to his parents’ implied commands. 

An hour after the last herd of ponies had 
scampered into town and out again, as if simply 
to announce the approach of this most wonder- 
ful of all exhibitions, .Teddy Dunham arrived 
nearly breathless with excitement and rapid 
running. 

“ She’s come, Phil ! ” he shouted, not slackening 
his pace until he was on the step of the door by 
the side of Master Barton and Sam. “ There was 
a whole crowd of fellers down to the cross-roads 
as soon as ever it began to grow light this 
mornin’, an’ I stayed till after the procession was 
pretty near in shape to start. Why, them pictures 
don’t begin to tell half that belongs to this circus. 
I never saw such a drove of horses an’ beasts in 
my life, an’ of course we couldn’t see into very 
many of the cages. And the wagons! Well, 
they’re the finest that ever was ! More gold on 
, ’em than would buy two such towns as this ! And 


THE TEMPTATION. 


IT 


say, Phil, they’ve got three bands — three carts 
full of musicianers ! ” 

“ Have they started yet ? ” 

“ 1 reckon so by this time. It looked as if 
everything was ready when I come away, an’ I 
was mighty sorry to leave ’em ; but it didn’t seem 
fair when you wasn’t ’round, so I come up to 
wait here till they’d been through the town. 
Then I’m goin’ to hunt for a job.” 

“ You don’t stand much chance of gettin’ one 
to-day. Folks ain’t likely to think of work when 
they can see the circus.” 

“ I don’t know ’bout that. Now, there’s Mr. 
Atwood ; what does he care for the show ? ” 

“ Are you countin’ on his hirin’ you ?” 

“ He might.” 

“ Yes ; an’ if he should, you wouldn’t get 
more’n ten cents.” 

“But you see he’d have to pay a good deal 
bigger price for a job on a day like this, an’ 
that’s what I’m figgerin’ on. Boys will be scarce 
from now till to-morrow mornin’, ’cause them fel- 
lers what have got enough to pay their way into 
the show couldn’t be hired to work. But what’s 
troublin’ me is, that while you have to take care 
of the baby you won’t have much chance to help 
me, even if I should find a good job.” 


18 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ That’s all ’cordin’ to what sort of work is to 
be done. If it was out-doors, Sam could kinder 
take care of himself, if we had an eye on him 
once in a while. I’m ’fraid you won’t be hired, 
an’ it would be awful if we shouldn’t see this cir- 
cus, Teddy.” 

“ Awful ? Why, Phil, that’s no name for it ! 
I don’t care so very much ’bout the general run 
of shows ; but it ain’t once in a lifetime a circus 
like this comes to Berwick — I don’t believe one 
of the kind ever was here before, an’ we’ve got 
to get in some way ! ” 

“ See here, Teddy,” and Phil tried earnestly to 
prevent a big lump from rising in his throat ; “ I 
don’t believe you’ll find any chance to earn money 
enough for both of us, an’ if it can’t be done, you 
mustn’t bother ’bout me.” 

“ If I see a sight for one, I can make it do for 
two, I reckon. I tell you the thing has got to be 
done, so don’t worry, for — There she comes ! 
There she comes ! Now you’re going to see some- 
thin’ that’s never been ’round this part of the 
country before ! ” 

Strains of music in the distance told of the 
approach of the “ Great and Only ; ” and from that 
moment until the end of the cavalcade had passed 
the Barton homestead, neither the boys nor the 


THE TEMPTATION. 


19 


baby heeded anything save the gorgeous proces- 
sion which caused the dusty road to appear a 
perfect blaze of color. 

Then, and not until then, did Teddy assume an 
air of business, as, leaping down from his point of 
vantage on the veranda, he said hurriedly, — 

“ Now I’ve got to leave. There’s no time to 
lose. Perhaps I’ll be gone quite a spell ; an’ if 
you are tired of waitin’, go over by the circus 
grounds where I’ll be certain to find you.” 

He departed hurriedly, and Phil no longer 
thought of duty ; the sole question in his mind 
was as to how he and the baby might be able to 
enter the huge tents which he knew were already 
being erected. 


20 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


CHAPTER II. 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 



HEN the streets were comparatively de- 
serted, after the passage of the gorgeous 
cavalcade, and Teddy had gone in search 
of employment whereby he might earn sufficient 
money to purchase tickets to the exhibition, the 
moments passed slowly and wearily to Phil. 

Little Sam, no longer entertained by the un- 
usual spectacle which had so completely enchained 
his attention, grew fretful, and the amateur nurse 
found it difficult to prevent him from loudly la- 
menting the absence of his mother. 

“ I don’t dare to walk ’round with you now, 
Sam, ’cause you’ll get all tired out, an’ want to 
go to sleep just when it’s time for the circus to 
begin. Even if Teddy an’ I can’t get in to see 
the performance, we’ll want to stay ’round the 
tents a spell, an’ of course I’ve got to take you. 
Why not go to sleep now, an’ then you’ll be in 
good trim for travellin’ over the show grounds.” 

It is hardly probable little Sam understood his 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


21 


brother’s advice; he certainly did not act upon 
the suggestion, but grew more and more uneasy, 
until Phil finally said in a tone which had in it 
an inflection of satisfaction, — 

“ If mother was here this minute she’d see it 
wasn t any use to try an’ keep you quiet at home, 
so there s nothin’ else for me to do but take you 
down to the show. Even if we hadn’t counted on 
goin’ in case Teddy gets the money, I’d have to 
do this much.” 

Then, locking the doors carefully, he took Sam 
by the hand, walking slowly through the garden 
until, having arrived at the gate, he stopped for 
an instant while he said, much as if he were talk- 
ing to the shrubs and flowers, — 

“ You see, it ain’t any kind of use to try to do 
what mother told me, without I’m willin’ Sam 
shall yell till he’s red in the face ; an’ that’s what 
he’s bound to do unless I can keep him quiet by 
showin’ him ’round the circus-grounds.” 

Having thus vindicated himself, as it were, 
Master Barton walked as swiftly as Sam’s tiny 
legs could be forced to carry their owner. 

There was no one in the village to detain Phil 
or the baby. It was as if the white tents a 
quarter of a mile distant were lodestones of such 
power that every boy within a radius of three 


22 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


miles was drawn toward them despite his will; 
and in Phil’s case the power of attraction was 
much stronger because of the doubt in his mind 
as to whether it would be possible for him to wit- 
ness the performance. 

During the first portion of the short journey the 
baby protested vehemently against being forced 
to walk so rapidly; but when once the walls of 
cloth ornamented by flags of every color and 
shape could be seen, he willingly trudged on by 
the side of his brother, laughing and gurgling 
with delight at the wondrous spectacle before him. 

Phil, with no idea that there was anything to be 
done save amuse the baby, walked from one tent 
to another admiring the huge banners on which 
were painted pictures of what was alleged could 
be seen inside, or talked with his friends and 
acquaintances regarding the afternoon’s perform- 
ance, until his mind became so thoroughly filled 
with the deliciously strange objects on every hand 
that there was no room for thought of his 
mother’s parting instructions. 

When he had been on this seemingly enchanted 
ground half an hour or more, he went, quite by 
accident, in the direction of the tents used as 
stables, and there proceeded to feast his eyes on 
the horses. 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


23 


It was while he stood with the baby by his side, 
admiring a pair of spotted ponies which were be- 
ing carefully groomed, that he heard a familiar 
voice from among the animals cry, — 

“ Hi ! Phil ! Hold on a minute ! I want to 
talk with you ! ” 

Master Barton searched in vain with his eyes 
for the speaker. He knew it was Teddy who had 
hailed him, but yet the cry seemed to have come 
from one of the circus employees. 

While he was gazing around in perplexity, 
Master Dunham, with a smile on his face expres- 
sive of the most intense satisfaction, and carry- 
ing in his hands two water-pails, came toward 
him. 

“Well, I’ve struck jest the kind of a job I 
was huntin’ after ! ” 

“ Did you come out of that tent ? ” Phil asked 
excitedly. 

“Didn’t you see me ? I’m jest the same as one 
of the circus men now. I’m luggin’ water for the 
horses. It ain’t five minutes since I had my arms 
’round the neck of that spotted pony nearest us. 
That’s what you can call a stunner ! ” 

“ Will they really let you go in an’ out of there 
as often as you like ? ” 

“ Of course. Didn’t I say I was luggin’ water 


24 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


for the horses ? I’ve been workin’ here ’most an 
hour.” 

“ Are you goin’ to get anything for it ? ” 

“ Sure ; though I’d been willin’ to do it for 
nothin’ rather’n not have a chance. One of the 
men said he’d pay me if I’d bring all the water he 
wanted, an’ I told him I wouldn’t ask for a cent 
if he’d give me two tickets for the show.” 

“ And is he truly goin’ to give them to you ? ” 
Phil asked, now finding it difficult to retain his 
hold of Sam’s hand because of the sense of excite- 
ment which was rapidly taking possession of him. 

“ He said he would if I’d do work enough, an’ 
you better believe I’m hustlin’ lively. Say, why 
can’t you help me ? If there was two of us we’d 
surely earn the tickets.” 

Phil actually forgot the baby for an instant, and 
had already seized one of the pails, when he sud- 
denly remembered his charge. 

u How can I ? ” he cried in a tone of disappoint- 
ment. “ The baby couldn’t run back an’ forth, 
even if I dared to take him into the tent with 
us.” 

“ Why not make him set out here till we get 
through ? ” 

“ I’d like to see you make him do anything he 
didn’t fancy.” 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


25 


“ Put him right down on the ground, an’ chuck 
a couple of rocks on his dress ; that’ll hold him.” 

“ Yes, an’ he’d yell loud enough to break up 
the whole show. It ain’t any use — there’s Sadie 
Parker ! I wonder if she wouldn’t take care of 
him for a spell?” 

“ Try it. Say you’ll give her them agates of 
yours if she’ll look out for him till this job is 
finished. They ain’t worth so much money as 
you’ve always counted on, an’ I’m sure I’d rather 
give her twice as much than miss goin’ to the 
show.” 

Hurriedly Phil made his way with the baby to 
where Sadie was standing, deeply occupied with 
all that vras going 'on around her ; and in a few 
moments she was engaged as temporary nurse for 
little Sam. 

The temptation to become the owner of the 
best collection of agates in Berwick was sufficient 
inducement, and she promised to care for the child 
as carefully as even his mother would. 

This last assertion set at rest any doubts in 
Phil’s mind, if indeed there had been any, regard- 
ing the abandonment of the baby during the 
remainder of the forenoon ; and he set eagerly 
about availing himself of the opportunity of earn- 
ing a ticket of admission to the circus. 


26 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


When half an hour had passed his arms ached 
from the constant strain of carrying water, tiny 
streams of perspiration ran down his flushed face, 
and he was as weary as a boy well can be ; but 
there was no thought of relinquishing his proud 
position as water-carrier to the circus horses, at 
least not until he had fully earned that for which 
he was laboring. 

More than once during this time had he seen 
the baby, who appeared to be perfectly contented 
with the change of nurses ; and there was no 
reason, so he argued with himself, why he should 
feel otherwise than exceedingly well pleased with 
the prospects before him. 

Noon came, and Teddy’s employer still de- 
manded more water. 

“ I ought to go an’ get Sam,” Phil whispered. 
“ Sadie only agreed to take care of him till dinner- 
time.” 

“ It won’t do to knock off now, ’cause we’ve 
got the tickets almost earned, an’ the man might 
be mad if we didn’t fill our contract,” Teddy re- 
plied in a matter-of-fact tone, which convinced 
Phil it was wisest to follow his friend’s advice. 

The boys worked industriously half an hour 
longer, until every barrel and pail in the tent had 
been filled. 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


27 


But now it was not possible to find the man 
who had hired them ; and Phil said, after they had 
walked twice around the stable-tents, — 

“ It’s no use, I’ll have to go an get the baby 
now, an’ you can keep on huntin’ for the man. 
It won’t be such a dreadful long while before the 
doors are open, so I’ll take Sam an’ hang ’round 
in front of the big tent till you come.” 

Phil hurried away as he ceased speaking, going 
directly toward that portion of the enclosure where 
he had last seen Sadie and the baby, but failing 
to find either. 

Growing slightly disturbed in mind, he ran 
from one end of the tenting-grounds to the other, 
inquiring eagerly for the missing nurse of every 
acquaintance he met ; but getting no information 
until he was nearly breathless from his exertions, 
when Leander Phinney told him he had seen 
Sadie Parker on her way home some time previ- 
ous, and that she was then alone. 

“ Are you certain Sam wasn’t with her ? ” Phil 
asked in a tone of alarm. 

“ Don’t you s’ pose I could see the baby if he’d 
been there? She was goin’ home full speed; I 
reckon she’d stayed down here too long, an’ was 
afraid her mother might scold.” 

It seemed strange that just at this moment, 


28 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


when his anxiety was very great, there should come 
into his mind the memory of what his mother 
had said when she left him. That Sam could 
not be found was surely trouble enough, without 
his being forced to endure the prickings of con- 
science. 

While one might have counted twenty he stood 
gazing around him in perplexity ; and then came 
the thought that the first course to be pursued 
was to question Sadie regarding Sam’s where- 
abouts, and with the utmost haste he set about 
carrying this idea into execution. 

He was yet some distance from the Parker 
home, when Sadie, having seen him from the. win- 
dow, came quickly out into the street with an ex- 
pression of alarm on her face, asking before he 
had time to make any explanations, — 

“ Didn’t you find the baby where I left him?” 

“ I didn’t see him anywhere.” 

“ I stayed with him just as long as I dared, for 
mother told me if I wasn’t home by dinner-time I 
couldn’t go to the circus this afternoon. I hadn’t 
seen you for more than an hour, an’ began to 
think I’d have to give up going to the show, 
when a woman asked what the trouble was. 
After I’d told her, she said she’d take care of 
the baby till you come.” 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


29 


“Who was the woman?” 

“ I don’t know, but think she belonged to the 
circus. She acted as if it was her business to be 
there.” 

“ Did she promise to stay right in that spot ? ” 

“ I don’t know as those were her very words ; 
but she said she’d take care of him till you 
come.” 

Phil, now growing bewildered, stood for an in- 
stant staring blankly at Sadie, and she, believing 
he was mutely reproaching her for having thus 
abandoned the baby, as it were, burst into tears. 

“ I couldn’t stay any longer, Phil, indeed I 
couldn’t, because mother told me I must be home 
at dinner-time, and besides, you promised to be 
back in an hour. I took the very best care of 
him till long past twelve o’clock, an’ then I had 
to come away.” 

Her tears almost terrified Phil, because he un- 
derstood by them that she believed little Sam was 
really lost ; and, turning quickly, he ran toward 
the tenting-ground at full speed, stopping only 
when he saw an acquaintance, and then for no 
longer time than was required to ask concerning 
the baby. 

No one had seen little Sam save while he was 
with Sadie ; and even though he yet remained 


80 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


within the enclosure, Phil understood it would be 
an extremely difficult task to find him, because of 
the dense crowd, growing larger each instant, 
which surged to and fro before the many attrac- 
tions. 

He was darting here and there irresolutely, hop- 
ing even against hope that he might by accident 
stumble upon the baby, when Teddy confronted 
him. 

“ You’re a nice fellow for a partner, ain’t you ? 
If you’d been down by the big tent ten minutes 
ago we could have walked straight in. The man 
was there, an’ said we didn’t need tickets, ’cause 
he’d put us past ^he doorkeeper.” 

“But Sam is lost, Teddy. I can’t find him 
anywhere.” 

“ Sadie Parker’s got him, of course.” 

“ She hasn’t ! I’ve just been up to her house;” 
and Phil repeated what had been told him. 

“It’s all right if one of the show women took 
him. I s’pose he’s inside the big tent this min- 
ute, walkin’ ’round large as life, enjoyin’ himself. 
That’s your place to strike him. Come on ; let’s 
find the man again that hired me to lug water, 
an’ then we’ll have hold of Sam in less than no 
time.” 

Master Dunham spoke so decidedly, as if there 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


31 


was no reason to be alarmed concerning little Sam, 
that Phil’s fears were allayed, and he began to be- 
lieve he had really been foolish in thus allowing 
himself to be disturbed because of what was surely 
only a temporary disappearance of the baby. 

“ I never thought of his bein’ inside the tent,” 
he said in a half apologetic tone. 

“ Of course he’s bound to be there, if one of the 
show women took care of him. If you’d come 
right to me jest as soon as Sadie Parker told you, 
we’d had him by this time.” 

Master Dunham did not attempt to explain 
how, amid that throng, he could have been found 
more readily than the baby ; and Phil was so re- 
lieved in mind because of believing he now knew 
Sam’s whereabouts, that he was not disposed to 
find fault with the rather petulant words. 

“ Let’s go right away an’ find the man who 
hired you.” 

“ That ain’t so easy as you might think for,” 
Master Dunham grumbled. “ I went all over 
these grounds more’m a dozen times before I saw 
him in the first place, an’ now jest as likely as 
not we’ll have to do the same thing.” 

“ I’m sorry,” Phil said humbly; “but I was 
frightened, an’ couldn’t help goin’ up to Sadie’s 
house, for I thought the baby was really lost.” 


32 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


Teddy made no reply to this apology, and the 
two began to search for their employer. 

After ten minutes had been spent fruitlessly 
walking to and fro, Master Dunham came to the 
conclusion that the task would not be concluded 
until the performance had begun, and again he 
reproached his friend and partner with having 
deprived him of the fruits of his labor. 

Phil defended himself to the best of his ability, 
and in a most humble manner, for he believed 
himself quite as culpable as Teddy would have it 
appear. 

Fifteen minutes passed, and yet the man who 
had promised to admit them to the tents was not 
found. 

“ It’s an aw T ful pity you tried to help me get 
into the circus,” Phil said sorrowfully, “ ’cause 
you’d be there now except for my hangin’ on.” 

“ It can’t be helped,” Teddy replied in a tone 
which told his companion he was thoroughly 
angry because of the delay. 

“ I wouldn’t tag ’round any longer if it wasn’t 
that I’ve got to fetch the baby out of there.” 

“ I sha’n’t find him any sooner if you leave now, 
so you may as well stick,” Teddy said grimly ; 
and it is possible he might have allowed his anger 
to burst forth into yet plainer words, if just at 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


83 


that moment the man for whom he was seeking 
had not appeared. 

“ That’s him ! ” Master Dunham cried, and Phil 
gave vent to a deep sigh of relief. He was re- 
joiced that the search had come to an end, for now 
it seemed certain he would soon have little Sam in 
his charge once more. 

The desire to see the circus was by no means 
so great as during the earlier portion of the day, 
before so much trouble had come upon him. 

Teddy made his demand for payment, and the 
showman was ready to comply with it. 

Conducting the two to the entrance of the 
largest tent, he spoke a few words to the ticket- 
taker, and that functionary allowed them to pass 
him. 

At last Phil was inside the magic portals, but 
this fact did not give him the pleasure he had 
expected. 

On every hand were the fancifully painted cages 
containing animals concerning which he had read 
but never seen, yet he paid little or no attention 
to them. The herd of elephants which, under 
different circumstances, would have held him spell- 
bound for at least an hour, were now unheeded, 
and Teddy cried sharply as Phil would have 
walked swiftly through this tent which appeared 


34 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


to be literally crowded with curious forms of 
life, — 

“ Where are you goin’? We want to hold on 
here till we’ve seen everything. Jest look at 
that cage of monkeys, will you ! ” 

“ I can’t stop now, Teddy. I’ve got to find 
Sam first.” 

“ What’s the use fussin’ ’bout him so long as 
he’s all right ? ” 

“ But I don’t know that he is.” 

“ Of course you do ! Didn’t Sadie Parker say 
a woman promised to take care of him ? ” 

“ Yes, that’s what she said ; but I ought to 
have him by this time, ’cause the show’ll open 
pretty soon.” 

“ Let’s jest walk past these cages slow once, an’ 
then I’ll go with you. We can see a good deal 
inore’n we can when Sam is here taggin’ along.” 

Phil’s one desire was to find the baby ; but his 
companion had done him such a great favor, even 
at the risk of being himself deprived of seeing all 
the wonders contained in the “ Great and Only,” 
that it seemed like the grossest ingratitude to 
disregard any reasonable proposal he might make. 

Therefore, much against his inclination, he ac- 
companied Teddy around the menagerie tent. 

Phil realized that he should have been filled 


THE OPPORTUNITY. 


85 


with surprise and admiration at what he saw ; 
but even the den of Bengal tigers failed to inter- 
est him, and in the antics of the monkeys he 
could see nothing amusing, because all the while 
his conscience was troubling him with the sugges- 
tion that he had shamefully neglected little Sam, 
who might at that very moment be in need of his 
brotherly care. 

It seemed to him as if fully half the afternoon 
had passed before Teddy finally announced his 
willingness to enter the main tent where both 
believed the baby would be found; and once there 
he glanced eagerly around at the almost vacant 
benches, for it was so early that the spectators 
were as yet occupied with viewing the animals. 

Not more than fifty people were on the rude 
seats calculated to accommodate many hundred, 
and but one glance sufficed to show him that Sam 
was not among them. 


36 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


CHAPTER III. 

THE SEARCH. 

T was several moments before Phil could 
convince himself that the baby was not 
in this tent. 

Teddy appeared to feel so confident there was 
no cause for alarm concerning little Sam, — 
that in order to find him it was only neces- 
sary to visit this portion of the circus, — that 
Phil had been comparatively easy in mind re- 
garding him ; but now Master Dunham’s mistake 
was proven, the neglectful nurse was overwhelmed 
with grief and remorse. 

“ He isn’t here, Teddy ! He isn’t here ! He’s 
lost ! He’s lost, an’ I’m to blame for it all ! ” 

“ Don’t act like as if you was crazy,” Master 
Dunham said sharply and more impatiently than 
usual, because he was really alarmed, but trying 
to prevent his friend from suspecting it. “ There 
ain’t any reason to say he’s lost if you don’t happen 
to see him jest this minute. Perhaps the woman 
is where the animals are, huntin’ for us.” 



THE SEARCH. 


37 


“ Then let’s go straight back an’ find her. 
S’posin’ mother should come home, an’ Sam was- 
n’t there ? ” 

“ There’s no need of s’posin’ anything like that, 
’cause she won’t be here till dark, an’ we’ll find 
him before the show begins,” Teddy said as he 
followed his friend, who w r as walking swiftly — 
almost running — in the direction from which 
he had just come. 

To make a thorough search of that section of 
the exhibition containing the caged animals was 
well-nigh impossible, owing to the press of sight- 
seers. The spacious tent was filled almost to 
overflowing with the citizens of Berwick and 
adjoining villages, and a difficult task it was 
for the two boys to force their way through the 
throng. 

To ascertain definitely whether Sam was here 
or not could not be done, and despite his grief 
and anxiety, Phil soon realized this fact. 

“We couldn’t find him in a month, even if 
he was huntin’ for us,” the boy wailed. “ What 
shall I do, Teddy ? ” 

“ I don’t see as there’s much of anything that 
can be done till this crowd clears out,” Master 
Dunham replied ; and his voice was just a trifle 
unsteady, for now he was becoming thoroughly 


38 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


alarmed. “ When the folks have gone into the 
other tent we’ll be sure to find him.” 

“ But we ain’t certain he’s really here.” 

“ Of course he must be in one place or the 
other, Phil, an’ you’re only makin’ a bad matter 
worse by gettin’ so fussed up over it. S’pose 
you walk back an’ forth on this side, an’ I’ll go 
straight across ; we’ll stand twice as much show 
of strikin’ him as if we hunted together.” 

Phil made no objection to this plan. He was 
so terrified as to be almost helpless ; and when his 
friend left him he paced to and fro in a circum- 
scribed space, struggling to prevent the tears from 
showing themselves. 

It was an aimless, incompetent search he made 
just at this time. The only idea in his mind seemed 
to be that he must continue to move about ; and 
he did so at random, until confronted by Sadie 
Parker, who exclaimed as she seized him by the 
arm, — 

“ 0 Phil ! Have you found the baby yet ? ” 

“No ; an’ he must be lost for certain.” 

It was no longer possible for Phil to restrain 
his tears, and as the big drops chased each other 
down his cheeks he told in an incoherent fashion 
what he and Teddy had already done. 

“ Of course the woman wouldn’t want to keep 


THE SEARCH. 


39 


him forever/’ the girl said with an effort to soothe 
her distressed friend, although at the same time 
sharing his terror. “I am certain she belonged 

o o 

to the circus, because I’d never seen her before, 
an’ she acted as if she had a right to be on the 
grounds. Are you sure he isn’t in the other 
tent ? ” 

“ He wasn’t there a little while ago.” 

“ Go straight back and look again. Ask every- 
body if they’ve seen him, an’ I’ll hunt here till 
you get back.” 

Without stopping to realize that he might not 
be able to find her again amid the throng, Phil 
obeyed in silence. 

On returning to the adjoining structure the 
neglectful nurse saw that a much larger number 
of people had assembled, and it was no longer 
possible for him to ascertain by a single glance 
if the baby was there. 

As he walked hurriedly in front of the step- 
like* seats, he saw many acquaintances, and of 
each he asked the same question, — 

“ Have you seen our Sam ? ” 

“ No,” was the invariable reply, coupled with 
the request for information, “ Is he lost ? ” 

“ Sadie Parker says some woman belongin’ to 
the show had him at dinner-time.” 


40 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


Then as Phil passed on he frequently heard one 
say to another, — 

“ Mrs. Barton’s baby is lost. I suppose she left 
him in that boy’s care, and he thought more of 
seeing the circus than he did of attending to the 
child.” 

This remark was repeated in a variety of forms, 
and each time he heard it Phil’s grief increased 
until it seemed almost impossible to longer control 
himself. 

If at that moment he could have thrown him- 
self down at his mother’s knee, knowing little Sam 
was safe at home, how penitently he would have 
begged her forgiveness, and how gladly received 
such punishment for his neglect of duty as she 
might have seen fit to inflict. 

Unfortunately, however, this could not be ; and 
he continued on his fruitless search until he had 
made a circuit of the tent without having met 
a single person who had seen little Sam since the 
moment Sadie Parker confided him to the care of 
the stranger. 

He had involuntarily halted at the entrance of 
the menagerie tent, when Teddy Dunham came 
toward him hurriedly, and a great hope sprang 
up in Phil’s mind as he cried eagerly, — 

“ Have you found him ? ” 


THE SEARCH. 


41 


“ I don’t believe he’s out where the animals are. 
Have you made sure he isn’t here ? ” 

“ I’ve asked almost everybody.” 

“ Been all the way ’round ? ” 

“ Yes ; an’ looked in every place. It’s no use, 
Teddy ! It’s no use ! He’s lost ! ” 

“ I tell you he ain’t. The woman has got him, 
an’ she’s somewhere, of course.” 

“ Then why haven’t we seen her ? We’ve been 
in both tents.” 

“ She may be outside looking for you this very 
minute.” 

Strange as it may seem, this idea had not oc- 
curred to Phil. Having been assured by his 
friend that the woman must be in that particu- 
lar tent, he had given himself wholly up to the 
idea; but once another had been suggested, he 
was eager to put it to the test. 

“ What are you going to do ? ” Teddy shouted 
hoarsely; and Phil, not slackening his speed, re- 
plied, — 

“ Goin’ to find that woman, if she’s outside.” 

“ Be sure to tell the doorkeeper that you want to 
come back again, else you won’t get the chance.” 

Phil no longer had any desire to see the alleged 
wonders of the “ Great and Only,” and but for 
this warning of his friend he would have made his 


42 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


way past the ticket-taker without arranging ior a 
possible return ; but Teddy’s words were ringing 
in his ear, and he said to the doorkeeper, — 

“ I’ve got to go out and hunt for the baby. 
Will you let me in if I want to come back ? ” 

“ Go ahead. I’ll remember your face,” the man 
replied carelessly ; and even amid his grief Phil 
wondered why it was this attache of the circus 
could be so indifferent after he had been told that 
little Sam was lost. 

Although the doors of the big tent were open to 
admit those who wished to enter, the crowd on 
the outside was even larger than at noon ; and as 
the frightened boy ran to and fro, he realized that 
his search would be quite as difficult as it had 
been under the canvas. 

Like one frantic he darted from point to point, 
stopping to inquire for little Sam whenever he met 
an acquaintance, and always receiving the same 
answer. 

It was as if the baby had disappeared from off 
the face of the earth at the very instant Sadie 
Parker gave him over to the care of the stranger. 

Phil met Mrs. Merrill, a kindly, motherly old 
lady, who lived in the house adjoining his father’s, 
and of her he asked tearfully, — 

“ Have you seen our Sam ? ” 


THE SEARCH. 


43 


“ Bless my soul, Philip ! What is the matter ? 
Seen him ? Of course I have.” 

“ When ? Where ? ” Phil asked eagerly. 

“ This morning, when you and he were watching 
the circus parade.” 

“ I mean have you seen him since ? ” 

“ Why no, child. He isn’t lost, I hope ? ” 

“ That’s jest what he is,” Phil wailed. “ Sadie 
Parker was takin’ care of him this noon, but had 
to go home at dinner-time, and some woman 
promised to look out for him till I come.” 

“ Who was the woman ? ” 

“ I don’t know. Sadie thought she belonged to 
the show.” 

“ And she trusted that poor, innocent baby with 
one of these circus people ? Why, Philip Barton, 
what will your mother say to you? I always 
looked upon you as being a careful, honest boy. 
What will your mother say ? ” 

“ She can’t say anything to make me feel worse 
than I do now,” Phil cried as he gave way to a 
flood of tears. “ I couldn’t help it. I jest left 
him with Sadie a little wdiile, and when I came 
back he had gone.” 

“ But why did you leave him with her ? Why 
wasn’t you caring for him as you should ? ” 

“ Teddy Dunham an’ I was luggin’ water for 


44 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


the horses so’s we’d get a ticket to go into the 
show, and of course I couldn’t take Sam with me. 
Sadie said she’d keep him if I gave her my agates, 
an’ 1 s’posed he’d be all right. I wouldn’t have 
deserted him for a million dollars, you know that, 
Mis’ Merrill.” 

“ And you thought lugging water for the circus 
horses was more important than taking care of 
your own flesh-and-blood brother ? ” the old lady 
asked severely; and this reproof, from a quarter 
where he had fully expected sympathy, plunged 
Phil into the very depths of despair. 

Mrs. Merrill had spoken as if there could be no 
question but that the baby was irreclaimably lost, 
after having been given into the care of the 
“ circus woman ; ” and the faint hope which had 
still lingered in Phil’s mind departed. 

He ran to the rear of one of the smaller tents, 
wdtli no other thought than that of hiding himself, 
and there, lying at full length upon the ground, 
gave himself wholly up to grief and remorse. 

He had no idea of the flight of time. It might 
have been five minutes or half an hour, wdien he 
was aroused by the cry, — 

“ Hi ! Phil ! Phil Barton ! ” 

Starting to his feet, he ran out from behind the 
screen of canvas, as he shouted, — 


THE SEARCH 


45 


“Hello! Who is it?” 

‘•Me — Teddy.” 

“ Have you found the baby ? ” 

•“ I know where he is, an’ it’s all right. Come 
quick, or you’ll miss the show.” 

Phil ran swiftly in the direction from which the 
voice had come, and was greeted by his friend, 
who said impatiently, — 

“ It seems as if everybody was tryin’ to make 
me lose this circus after all the work I’ve had to 
get in. Jest as likely as not the show has begun 
while I’m out here huntin’ for you. What you 
been doin’ ? ” 

“Where’s Sam?” Phil cried, giving no heed 
to the question. 

“ With the woman who took him from Sadie 
Parker. 

“ How do you know ? ” 

“ When I couldn’t find him in either of the 
tents, I went out and begun askin’ some of the 
show people if they’d seen him, an’ that’s what 
you ought to have done in the first place.” 

“ And had they ? ” Phil interrupted nervously. 

“ Of course they had. One of the canvas men 
said he saw something or other Marie, I don’t 
know what he meant, goin’ into the dressing-room 
with a strange youngster.” 


46 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ Did you follow her ? ” 

“ I tried ; but they wouldn’t let me in.” 

“ Why didn’t you say you was after Sam ? ” 

“ I did ; but the man there said it wouldn’t be 
any use to go in till after the show was over ; 
that the baby was safe enough/ cause he couldn’t 
get away, and the women-folks would tend to 
him.” 

“ But I want him now,” Phil cried sharply; and 
at this, to him, foolish persistence Master Dunham 
lost the slight stock of patience remaining. 

“ Then go an’ bring him out,” he said petu- 
lantly. “ Perhaps you can sneak in after I tried 
an’ couldn’t. The show’s begun by this time, an’ 
you can miss it if you’re mind to ; but you’ll only 
be makin’ a fool of yourself, ’cause it’s jest as well 
to get him when the performance has ended.” 

“ Where is the dressing-room ? ” 

“ Round behind the big tent ; ” and Teddy, be- 
lieving the search had been ended so successfully 
that there was no longer any reason for anxiety, 
hastened away to take his place among the specta- 
tors, determined to lose no further opportunity of 
seeing the marvels of the “ Great and Only.” 

Phil ran at full speed in the direction pointed 
out by his friend, and had no difficulty in finding 
the dressing-room to which he referred. 


THE SEARCH. 


47 


To effect an entrance, however, was not so 
simple. When he would have pushed his way 
through the canvas flap, a burly, ill-kempt fellow 
barred the passage, threatening him with most 
direful punishment unless he speedily “ made his 
way out of there.” 

“ Teddy Dunham says our baby’s here, an’ I’ve 
got to come in,” Phil persisted, bold in the belief 
that he was demanding only what was his right. 

u Are you after the kid Mile. Marie brought 
in ? ” the man asked in a more kindly tone. 

“ I’m after Sam, an’ Sadie Parker said one of 
the circus folks took him.” 

“ There’s a youngster in the women’s dressing- 
room ; but neither you nor I can go in there until 
the show is over.” 

“ But I must. I’ve got to get Sam right 
away.” 

“ Oh, you must, eh? Well, you’ll have to set 
about some other way of doin’ it. The rule of 
this ’ere show is that nobody is allowed in the 
women’s dressing-rooms while the performance is 
goin’ on, an’ I’m here to see that it ain’t broken.” 

“ But it’s our baby I’m after,” Phil cried, aston- 
ished that he should be denied admittance under 
the circumstances. 

“ I can’t help that. It’s my business to keep 


48 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


everybody out, so be off with you. You can come 
back as soon as the performance is over, and then 
nobody will try to stop you.” 

“ But look here, mister, I’ve got to find Sam. 
Won’t you please let me in jest for a minute ? ” 

The man raised his hand as if about to strike 
the importunate boy, and then, probably ashamed 
of himself, lowered it quickly as he said in a 
milder tone, — 

“ Now see here, my lad, I’ve told you jest how 
it is. No one is allowed in that ’ere dressing- 
room while the performance is goin’ on; an’ if I 
should let anybody pass, no matter who he was, 
I’d lose my job before sundown. You’ll have to 
find the old man if you. count on gettin’ in there 
right away.” 

“ Who’s the old man ? ” 

“ Who is he ? Why, he’s the owner of the 
‘ Great and Only.’ ” 

“ Where is he ? ” 

“ That’s something I can’t tell you, my son. 
He’s likely to be on the grounds, or in the big 
tent, or almost anywhere. But you may count 
that he’s keepin’ his eye mighty sharp on them 
as works for him, wherever he is.” 

“ I wouldn’t know him if I saw him,” Phil said 
tearfully. 


THE SEARCH. 


49 


“ You’re right, my son, an’ now take a bit of 
advice from me. I reckon I know how the mat- 
ter stands. Most likely you vras told to look out 
for the kid, an’ let him slip. Mile. Marie picked 
him up on the grounds, an’ is tendin’ him as care- 
fully as if he was her own, which she’s capable of 
doin’, seein’s she’s the mother of five. Go right 
into the show, if it so be you’ve got a ticket, and 
see what’s goin’ on until the performance ends. 
Then come here, where you’ll find me, an’ I’ll pass 
you in. That’s all there is to be done, my boy; 
an’ you’d better follow my advice, ’cause you 
won’t get him any sooner by goin’ contrary to it. 
Besides, you don’t want to hang ’round here in 
the rain ; an’ we’re goin’ to have a right smart bit 
of a shower, unless I’m mistaken.” 

Phil had been so engrossed with his grief and 
remorse as to give no heed to the fact that the 
storm-clouds were gathering black and ominous, 
threatening each instant a downpour of rain. 

Even now he paid but little attention to the 
angry-looking sky, but stood silent, trying to de- 
cide what course he should pursue. 

The guardian at the door had spoken to him in 
a most friendly tone ; and the advice given seemed 
to be good, in view of the fact that there was no 
possibility of his effecting an entrance by force. 


50 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


Almost mechanically he retraced his steps to the 
entrance of the main tent, where, the doorkeeper 
recognizing him with a careless nod, he walked 
slowly through, not with any idea of playing the 
part of spectator, for all desire of seeing the circus 
had long since departed, but because there was no 
better place in which to spend the time which 
must intervene before he could claim Sam. 

Loud strains of music told that the perform- 
ance had begun; but yet he lingered near the 
animal cages, hesitating to join the audience lest 
every finger should be pointed at him as a boy 
who had deserted his baby brother for the ques- 
tionable pleasure of carrying water to the circus 
horses. 

While he stood leaning against the wheel of a 
wagon, a loud, sudden peal of thunder seemed to 
cause the very earth to tremble, and the caged 
animals darted to and fro across their narrow 
prisons in alarm. 

Another peal even louder than the first, and 
then a wail of protest from every rope and pole, 
as a fierce gust of wind swept down upon the can- 
vas structure. 

A flash of lightning which could plainly be seen 
through the covering of cloth, another angry roar 
from the heavens which was greeted with a howl 


THE SEARCH. 


51 


of fear from the occupants of the cages, and then 
it seemed to Phil as if the tent was lifted high in 
the air. 

He heard the shrill screams of. women, the 
hoarse shouts of men, the sharp flapping of the 
tent ; and in another instant, just as the struggling 
mass of human beings attempted to force their 
way toward him, he was enveloped in the folds 
of the falling canvas. 


52 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE DISASTER. 

T was several seconds before Phil realized 
that the tents of the “ Great and Only,” 
yielding to the enormous pressure of 
ddenly brought to bear upon them, had 
collapsed, burying spectators and employees alike. 

At first he was conscious of being held immo- 
vably down, while the pressure above him was so 
great as to be painful in the extreme. 

Then he heard, as if from afar off, owing to the 
folds of wet canvas which completely covered him, 
cries of terror from the spectators and the doubly 
imprisoned animals, while high above all was the 
roaring of the tempest, now at its full height. 

To extricate himself, or even to so much as 
move a hand, was impossible for the instant; and 
while he lay thus powerless, there came into his 
mind the terrible question as to where little Sam 
might be during this time of peril. 

He pictured to himself the baby smothering, 
dying, under the same heavy pressure which was 



wind 


THE DISASTER. 


53 


upon him ; and he not only realized, but magnified, 
the consequences of his disobedience to his parents' 
commands. 

For some time he gave no heed to the heavy 
sound as of blows struck immediately above him 
with some tiny tool ; and when finally the persis- 
tent continuance of these forced his attention, he 
realized that the rain was falling in torrents. 

It was not difficult for him to fancy the terrible 
scene the tenting grounds must present just at 
this time. 

The first fury of the tempest was by no means 
the last. 

The howling and shrieking of the wind could 
be heard above the din caused by the animals ; 
and the wet canvas was tossed up and down vio- 
lently, inflicting painful blows as it struck Phil’s 
defenceless body. 

It was this same buffeting which finally en- 
abled the boy to make his escape from the uncom- 
fortable and even dangerous situation into which 
he had been thrown. 

As the heavy canvas was lifted by the wind, he 
involuntarily moved to one side or the other in 
the hope of bettering his position, until he sud- 
denly found himself at the very outermost edge 
of the covering ; and when the next blast of wind 


54 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


raised the imprisoning weight, he rolled himself 
free. 

Although not later than three o’clock in the 
afternoon, a gloom as of twilight had overspread 
the town ; and it was only with difficulty Phil 
could discern surrounding objects. 

The mass of canvas, with ominous bulgings here 
and there which told of the prisoners beneath it, 
could plainly be seen because of the fact that it 
was close at hand ; but the gloom and the mist 
caused by the downpour of rain prevented him 
from seeing where, but a few moments previous, 
had stood the smaller tents, the ticket-wagon, 
booths, or vehicles belonging to the spectators. 

He gave no heed to the fact that his clothing 
was rapidly being saturated with water, but ran 
hurriedly, with a horrible fear tugging at his heart, 
toward that portion of the enclosure where the 
dressing-room had been located. 

Now, however, it was impossible for him to find 
that for which he sought. There was before him 
only this mass of sodden canvas, from beneath 
which came deafening cries of agony, fear, or sup- 
plication ; and in the huge pile one tent could not 
be distinguished from another. 

A man was coming rapidly toward him, 
carrying an axe, and looking here and there, 


THE DISASTER. 


55 


as if trying to settle some difficult question in his 
mind. 

Phil ran to meet him, and asked imploringly, — 

“ Have you seen our Sam since ” — 

The man passed on as if he neither saw nor 
heard the boy ; and from the profusion of jewel- 
lery, and because of his fancy as to how such a 
personage should appear, Phil believed he was 
the proprietor of the wrecked circus. 

Here a man, or there a woman, crawled from be- 
neath the heavy, stifling weight as the wind raised 
it momentarily ; and to each of these the distressed 
boy applied for information. 

All seemed so thoroughly dazed as to be incapa- 
ble of a reply. 

After what seemed like a very long time, al- 
though perhaps not more than two or three min- 
utes had elapsed, the employees of the “ Great and 
Only ” were gathered in a small group around the 
man whom Phil believed was the proprietor ; and 
the boy heard hurried commands given, saw one 
man and then another depart in different direc- 
tions until all had dispersed, to return again 
shortly afterward bearing poles or ropes, and the 
work of succor had begun. 

Some one standing near by called for Phil to aid 
in the task of raising two poles, at the top of 


56 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


which a block and tackle were attached, and 
cursed him for not obeying more quickly; an- 
other ordered him to stand aside out of the way 
if he could be of no assistance ; and a third gave 
yet a different command, so bewildering the boy 
that he remained silent and motionless, not know- 
ing which way to turn, cowering before the blind- 
ing flashes of lighting, or shrinking as the heavy 
peals of thunder caused the earth to tremble. 

Phil had involuntarily taken up his station at 
the very point where the employees of the “ Great 
and Only ” began their work of releasing the im- 
prisoned people ; but not until the blocks had 
been attached to the edge of the canvas, and a cer- 
tain section of it raised sufficiently to allow what 
seemed an enormous throng of men, women, and 
children to walk, stagger, or crawl out, did he 
fully realize all that was being done. 

Then his only thought was that the time had 
come when he could search for the baby ; and he 
would have made his way beneath this arch of 
sodden cloth, amid the splintered timbers, frag- 
ments of wagons, and litter of gaudy flags, but 
that he was stopped by cries of agony from a man 
who lay prostrate upon the ground directly in his 
path. 

“ Pull me out of here before that canvas falls 


THE DISASTER. 


57 


again/ , the man cried imploringly ; and Phil re- 
plied, — 

“ I mustn’t stop, because I’ve got to hunt for 
Sam. Why don’t you walk out ? ” 

“ I can’t ; I am helpless. I believe both legs 
are broken. Aren’t you Phil Barton ? ” 

The boy, arrested by thus hearing his own name 
at the instant when he would have plunged into 
the horrible mass in quest of the baby, leaned over 
the sufferer that he might see him more clearly. 

“ Don’t you know me, Phil ? I’m Jacob Mer- 
rill.” 

It was the husband of the old lady who had re- 
proacheff him for neglecting his duty toward Sam, 
— the neighbor whose home was next adjoining 
his ; and despite the imperative necessit}^ of search- 
ing for the baby, the boy turned all his attention 
to assisting the aged sufferer. 

A strong man would have found it difficult to 
effect very much in such a place. 

The affrighted multitude — some wounded se- 
verely, others painfully bruised, all in a panic of 
terror — were making every effort to escape from 
their prison of canvas, which was being shaken 
violently by the wind at imminent risk of again 
falling upon them, and each selfish to the utmost 
in this hour of peril. 


58 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


More than once was Phil thrown to the ground ; 
many trampled upon the grievously injured old 
man, yet none save the boy, who had been so dere- 
lict in his duty, stayed to lend a helping hand. 

Phil tried in vain to raise his neighbor from the 
ground ; but his strength would not have been 
sufficient, even had he been unimpeded in the at- 
tempt ; and after several unsuccessful efforts, Mr. 
Merrill said, his voice growing weaker each in- 
stant, — 

“Try to pull me out of the way, Phil. That is 
all you can do now.” 

“ Are you dyin’, Mr. Merrill ? ” the boy asked 
in a tone of terror. 

“ Broken bones don’t kill so quickly, lad. The 
pain makes me faint, and I am afraid I shall be- 
come unconscious before you can succeed.” 

“ I’ll get you outside, no matter what happens; 
so don’t give up so long as it can be helped, will 
you ? ” 

There was no reply. The old man had fainted ; 
but Phil continued his exertions, struggling now 
to pull the apparently lifeless body a few inches, 
and again to prevent the terror-stricken crowd 
from trampling upon it, until he succeeded in so 
far effecting a rescue as to drag his helpless neigh- 
bor to a place of comparative safety. 


THE DISASTER. 


59 


To do more was beyond Phil’s power; and al- 
though it was to leave the old man exposed to the 
pitiless elements, he returned again in search of 
Sam. 

By this time those of the spectators who were 
comparatively uninjured had made their way from 
beneath this portion of the canvas, and now en- 
sued such a scene as brought back to Phil all the 
sickening fears which had assailed him during the 
first seconds of the disaster. 

The helplessly wounded were being brought out ; 
some in the arms of friends and neighbors, and 
others on hastily improvised litters, which con- 
sisted here of a plain board, or there of the gay- 
colored trappings of the circus, until it seemed to 
the boy as if nearly all the residents of Berwick 
had been disabled. 

The horrible thought came in to his mind that 
if strong men had thus been grievously wonnded, 
how must it be with a helpless child like Sam ? 

Again and again he shouted the baby’s name at 
the full strength of his lungs ; but his voice was 
hardly more than a whisper as compared with the 
deafening din, which had not abated one whit in 
volume. 

The tempest increased in force, adding each in- 
stant to the list of the disabled; but relief parties, 


60 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


composed of the circus employees and the unin- 
jured citizens of the town, had by this time been 
organized, and the work of rescue was now car- 
ried on systematically, despite the furious on- 
slaughts of the wind, which threatened to render 
the efforts of the men unavailing. 

Once more Phil searched for the ruins of the 
dressing-room ; and while thus engaged he met a 
bare-headed boy, whose clothing was torn until it 
literally hung in rags from his body. 

It was but another victim of the tornado ; and 
Phil, having seen many others who had suffered 
more severely, would have passed him by without 
a word, but that the dilapidated-looking lad cried 
hoarsely, — 

“ Did you find Sam before the tents come 
down ? ” 

“ Is that you, Teddy ? ” 

“ It seems somethin’ that way, though I’ve been 
pretty nigh squeezed out of myself. Did you get 
hurt any ? ” 

“I wish I had,” Phil replied emphatically. 
“ I’d rather been killed straight out than have to 
go home an’ tell mother poor little Sam is in 
there;” and Phil pointed to that portion of the 
canvas which had not as yet been raised. 

“How do you know he’s there?” asked Teddy. 


THE DISASTER. 


61 


“Well, he must be somewhere around.” 

“ But then you ain’t certain he was inside ? ” 

“I know he was in the dressing-room with the 
women ; but the man at the door wouldn’t let me 
go in till after the show was over, and now the 
poor little baby is killed ; ” and for the first time 
since the terrible accident had occurred, Phil gave 
way to a flood of tears. 

Teddy’s usually tender heart reproached him for 
the impatience he had displayed just prior to the 
opening of the exhibition ; and with his arm 
around his friend’s neck he said soothingly, forced 
to shout into Phil’s ear in order that the words 
might be heard, because the noise of the tempest 
and the outcries of the sufferers were so great, — 

“ There’s plenty of folks come out without so 
much as bein’ scratched, ’cause I’ve seen ’em. 
Sadie Parker was sittin’ on the same bench with 
me, an’ wasn’t even shook up a little bit, so why 
mightn’t Sam be jest as lucky ? Women always 
look out for a youngster, and there was enough in 
that dressing-room to have taken care of a dozen 
such babies as yours.” 

“ That might be,” Phil said between the sobs ; 
“ but there ain’t much chance of it. It seems to 
mo everybody what was in the tent got hurt. I 
dragged old Mr. Merrill out, an’ I guess he’s dead.” 


62 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“But that’s no sign Sam ain’t all right. Where 
is the dressing-room ? ” 

“ That’s what I was huntin’ for ; but I can’t 
make it out, ’cause in the first place it’s so dark, 
an’ then again all this canvas looks alike. Don’t 
you know where it stood ? ” 

Teddy was so eager to relieve the distress in his 
friend’s mind as to be for the moment unmind- 
ful of the truth ; and he replied promptly, — 

“ Of course I do. It’s over this way. Come on. 
There’s a crowd gettin’ it up now.” 

As he spoke he ran, followed closely by Phil, 
toward a portion of the canvas which was being 
raised by the same method used in the first case ; 
and when the two arrived they saw several horses 
covered with torn and besmirched spangled cloths, 
which was sufficient evidence that in this place 
had been located the dressing-room. 

“ Did they get anybody out of here ? ” Phil 
asked eagerly of a man who looked as if he might 
have just been rescued. 

“ It seemed to me there was more than a thou- 
sand, and nigh on to half of ’em walked directly 
over me.” 

“ Did you see a baby — a little fellow about 
three years old ? ” 

“ I didn’t have a chance to see anybody. I was 


THE DISASTER. 


63 


on one of the top benches near the entrance to 
the dressing-room. After the concern fell, some 
boards pinned me down until the bulk of the 
crowd had got out.” 

“ But our Sam was in the dressing-room, an’ 
I am tryin’ to find him.” 

“Why, look here, you’re Elijah Barton’s boy, 
ain’t you ? ” 

“ Yes,” Phil replied meekly. 

“ Then how did the baby happen to be in the 
dressing-room of the circus?” 

“ One of the show-women was talcin’ care of 
him while Sadie Parker went to dinner, an’ ” — 

“ Oh, I see ; had to come to the circus an’ never 
mind anything about the baby, eh ? Well, I’m 
sorry for your mother; though I can’t say that 
much for yourself, if you left the little fellow in 
there for the show people to look after.” 

Phil turned away. He knew he deserved re- 
proach ; but it seemed the height of cruelty to 
upbraid him when he was in doubt whether poor 
little Sam was yet alive. 

“ There’s no need of jumpin’ down on a feller 
when he’s in so much trouble,” Teddy cried indig- 
nantly. “ Of course he ought to have looked out 
for the baby, but by cornin’ to tfce circus he wasn’t 
doin’ any more than you did.” 


64 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ I reckon I’ve seen enough of shows to last me 
as long as I live,” the man replied impatiently, 
and added, as if half ashamed of what he had said 
to Phil; “it’s no use for the boy to hunt after his 
baby now. Them as are hurt will be carried into 
the nearest houses, an’ if the youngster’s alive some 
one would have sense enough to take him out of 
the storm. .You’ll have to wait a spell; anyhow 
till the tornado lets up a bit.” 

Teddy looked anxiously around for Phil, and 
found him a short distance away, tugging at a 
mass of canvas which bulged in a sinister form. 

“ What are you try in’ to do there ? You can’t 
so much as lift one end of that.” 

“ Look, Teddy ! ” Phil cried. “ There must be 
somebody underneath, an’ perhaps it’s little 
Sam ! ” 

“ He wouldn’t make half so big a bunch as that ; 
an’ besides, you can’t lift it.” 

“But I must. Take hold with me. We can 
pull it up if we try.” 

Teddy struggled manfully to do as his friend 
desired ; and when they had raised the weight 
which, under other circumstances, would have 
been impossible for them to so much as move, 
they found the dead body of a horse, caparisoned 
for the ring. 


THE DISASTER. 


65 


“ That’s the very one a woman was on when the 
storm first begun. Jest before the tents went 
down she rode out, an’ this pole must have 
dropped on him after he got on the other side 
of the curtain ; ” and Teddy pointed to one of the 
supports of the tent which lay across the neck of 
the animal. 

“ Perhaps it was the woman who was taking 
care of little Sam,” Phil said with a sob. 

“Well, s’pose it was! That wouldn’t make it 
any worse for him. There was plenty others 
’round ; so this is no proof he has been hurt.” 

“ Teddy, this shows that men, women, and 
horses were all mixed up together in a place that 
wasn’t a quarter part as big as the menagerie tent ; 
an’ I don’t believe one of ’em got out alive. If 
I’d done as mother told me, Sam wouldn’t have 
been here, an’ it’s all my fault that he’s been 
killed ! ” 

Throwing himself down on the water-soaked 
canvas, the conscience-stricken Phil gave himself 
wholly up to grief; and for several moments no 
word of cheer was sufficiently strong to arouse 
him from the despair into which he had fallen. 


66 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


CHAPTER V. 

AFTER THE STORM. 

his despair and grief, Phil was almost 
unconscious of the fact that the rain 
was beating down upon him as furiously 
as at any time since the tempest began. 

Both he and Teddy were drenched to the skin ; 
and Master Dunham speedily became aware of his 
disagreeable condition, as he remained thus mo- 
tionless where the wind struck him with its full 
strength. 

“ See here, Phil,” he said, as he raised his 
friend’s head by force ; “ this won’t do at all, an’ 
you know it as well as I. In the first place, I 
don’t believe there’s any more chance of Sam’s be- 
ing dead than of his bein’ alive; an’ then again, 
you’re takin’ on as if you was the only one in this 
town what had any trouble. There must have 
been a good many people killed ; an’ if everybody 
acted the way you’re doin’, who’d help them that 
are hurt so bad.” 

“ There’s nothin’ we can do,” Phil wailed. 



AFTER THE STORM. 


67 


“ You can’t tell that till you’ve tried. Almost 
anything is better than layin’ here cryin’.” 

“ But how can I help it ? ” 

I don’t know as you can, right off ; but there’s 
nothing to prevent your workin’, ’cause you can 
cry at the same time. Where did you leave old 
Mr. Merrill?” 

“ Over there, close by the fence.” 

“ An’ jest as likely as not there hasn’t anybody 
been near him since. The men in this town have 
got a big job on hand to straighten things out, an’ 
you an’ I might help a little by takin’ Mr. Merrill 
home. He’ll die if he is left here in the storm.” 

Even this appeal might have failed to arouse 
Phil from the lethargy of despair which had come 
upon him, if Teddy had not literally forced him 
to rise to his feet, and then insisted on his point- 
ing out where the unfortunate man lay. 

They found the old gentleman conscious, but 
unattended, and suffering severely. 

“ I’ve tried to attract attention,” he said in 
reply to Teddy’s question, “ but the noise is so 
great that no one appears to have heard me ; and 
besides, I suppose there are very many in even a 
worse condition than I am. I ought not to ex- 
pect assistance until the more seriously injured 
are cared for.” 


68 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


u Are you hurt pretty bad ? ” and Teddy spoke 
in a cheery tone, as if by such means the sufferer’s 
mind might be distracted from his own distress. 

“ I think both legs are broken.” 

“ What can we do to help you ? ” 

“ Are there many injured ? ” 

“ It looks as if pretty nigh half the people that 
was in the show got hurt some way.” 

“ Then I must depend wholly on you two boys. 
Since so many are injured, it will likely be a long 
time before the others can assist me.” 

“ Of course we ought to take you home,” Teddy 
said reflectively ; “ but I don’t see how it’s goin’ 
to be done unless we can get somebody to help 
out a little.” 

“ Isn’t it possible to get a cart or a wheelbar- 
row? You two cannot carry me.” 

“ I know where there is a barrow, if you think 
you could stand it.” 

“ I would endure almost anything in order to 
get home,” the old gentleman said with a sob of 
pain, and then grew suddenly quiet as if con- 
sciousness had deserted him once more. 

“ See here, Phil ; go over behind Matthews’s 
shed, an’ you’ll find a wheelbarrow. We’ll man- 
age to lift him on it somehow, an’ between the 
two of us get him home.” 


AFTER THE STORM. 


69 


“ I must be huntin’ for poor little Sam ; ” and 
Phil would have gone again in the direction of 
the wrecked circus, but that Teddy detained him 
forcibly, as he said sharply, — 

“ Look here ! The men have gpt everybody 
out from under that canvas ; an’ there’s nothin’ 
you can do till it stops stormin’, so’s the town 
can get quieted down. Then we’ll go everywhere 
askin’ for Sam. Now here’s a chance for you an’ 
me to help poor Mr. Merrill, who don’t look as if 
he’d live a great spell longer ; an’ you’ll be doin’ 
what’s a good deal better than walkin’ ’round 
cry in’.” 

“ But it seems cruel not to do something to- 
wards helpin’ the baby.” 

“ You. know jest as well as I do, Phil Barton, 
that you cant help him, an’ you can do something 
towards keepin’ Mr. Merrill alive. Now step out 
an’ get that wheelbarrow like a man ! Don’t you 
see that all the well folks in town have got their 
hands full helpin’ them as have been hurt, an’ you 
are the only one who’s willin’ to stand idle cry in’.” 

Phil obeyed mechanically. He was suffering so 
intensely from grief and remorse as hardly to be 
conscious of what he did ; and when he came back 
with the barrow, he moved and appeared like one 
in a dream. 


70 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“I reckon the poor old man has gone off in 
kind of a faint/’ Teddy explained ; “ an’ he won’t 
feel the hurt so much if we lift him in before he 
gets his senses again. Take hold of his shoulder, 
and we’ll pull him up that way.” 

It was a difficult task to get the inanimate body 
into the small vehicle, and then dispose it in such 
a manner that it could be safely conveyed through 
the streets ; but thanks to Teddy’s efforts the 
work was finally accomplished, and the two boys 
set out, forced to make a long detour before gain- 
ing the road, in order to avoid the overturned 
tents. 

Nor were they the only ones engaged in such 
mournful work. On every hand could be seen 
dimly, amid the gloom and the mist of the rain, 
groups composed of three or four men or boys, 
carrying apparently lifeless burdens, or assisting 
those of the unfortunates who were yet able to 
partially help themselves. 

“Do you suppose any of ’em has found the 
baby?” Phil asked, when they were half way 
across the enclosure ; and Teddy replied sharply, — 

“ You mustn’t think of Sam now, ’cause it won’t 
do any good. If they’ve found him, we’ll know be- 
fore dark. Better hurry up, for Mr. Merrill looks 
as if he was dyin’.” 


AFTER THE STORM. 


71 


It was half an hour before the injured man was 
taken into his own home, and then Mrs. Merrill 
implored the boys to send a surgeon without de- 
lay. 

“ We’ll do the best we can,” Teddy replied, 
thinking it necessary to speak in a careless tone ; 
“but you mustn’t get fussed if one doesn’t come 
for a long spell, ’cause there’s a good many people, 
too, in this town what are hurt ; an’ with nobody 
but old Dr. Pillsbury to look out for ’em, it seems 
as though it would be a good while before every- 
body could be fixed up.” 

Mrs. Merrill, eager to relieve her husband’s suf- 
ferings, evidently did not hear the last portion of 
Master Dunham’s remark ; and the two boys went 
out into the street, Phil giving way yet more vio- 
lently than ever to his grief when they passed his 
home, for it was as if the building reminded him as 
strongly as words could have done of his disobe- 
dience and its probable results. 

“ Come now, Phil, brace up ! It won’t do any 
good to take on so, an’ there’s plenty of work for 
us to do between now an’ night ; ” and Teddy shook 
his friend violently. “ I don’t reckon we can find 
a doctor for Mr. Merrill, but perhaps there’s some- 
body else who can’t get home unless we lend a 
hand.” 


72 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


He half dragged, half led, Phil down the street ; 
and when the two were at the scene of the disas- 
ter once more, it was apparent that very much had 
been done in the way of aiding the unfortunate. 

The elements themselves had grown more kind- 
ly ; for the rain no longer fell in such volume, and 
the wind had decreased in force very perceptibly. 

The boys would have made their way directly 
to the spot from which they had come, but that 
they were stopped by a barrier formed of rope ex- 
tended from one end of the enclosure to the other, 
and guarded by several men. 

“ No one is allowed in here except those who 
are on duty,” a voice cried, as Teddy would have 
crawled under the rope ; and Phil recognized it as 
that of his father’s intimate friend. 

“ We must get in there, Mr. Hannaford, to hunt 
for Sam. I wouldn’t have stopped lookin’ except 
that old Mr. Merrill was most dyin’, an’ we had to 
carry him home.” 

“Was your brother in that tent?” the man 
asked sharply ; and Phil fancied he would once 
more be forced to tell of his neglect of duty, but 
this was not required of him. 

“ Yes, sir; an’ I want to find him.” 

“We have as many working here as can be em- 
ployed profitably, and a crowd of idle ones are to 


AFTER THE STORM. 


73 


be avoided. You could do your brother no good, 
if he is among the injured.” 

“ But he might be somewhere ’round there hunt- 
in’ for me,” Phil suggested feebly. 

“ There’s no chance of that. All the uninjured, 
except those who are engaged in the work^of res- 
cue, are outside these lines by this time. If the 
baby isn’t hurt, he is somewhere in the village.” 

Then Mr. Hannaford turned to a group of new- 
comers who were insisting on passing the barriers ; 
and the two boys stood gazing at each other va- 
cantly, until Teddy gained sufficient control of his 
own feelings to say, — 

“ Of course what he says is straight ; an’ so 
long as there’s nothing we can do to help any- 
body here, we’d better begin to find Sam.” 

“ How are we goin’ to do it ? ” 

“ Wait till them folks get away, an’ I’ll talk to 
Mr. Hannaford ; he’ll know.” 

During the time the two boys were carrying 
Mr. Merrill home, as well as afterward, when they 
saw so many people bearing ominous-looking bur- 
dens, it had become impressed upon Phil’s mind 
that little Sam was dead ; and when they found 
the scene of the disaster taken possession of by 
the uninjured citizens, with relief parties organ- 
ized and set at work systematically, there was in 


74 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


his mind only the thought that now he must wait 
until the baby’s body was carried to his home. 

Therefore it was that he was neither animated 
nor excited by Teddy’s proposal. 

Now, however, while waiting until it should be 
possible to speak with Mr. Hannaford, there 
sprang up in Phil’s heart a hope so sudden and 
great that it seized upon him like a fever. 

One of the relief parties had returned from the 
village ; and the leader said, in reply to the ques- 
tion of a bystander, — 

“ There are none killed so far as we have yet 
been able to ascertain. Forty are seriously in- 
jured, and twice as many badly bruised. That 
makes up the list of casualties. The damage done 
to the clothing of the spectators and the property 
of the circus folks must be very great.” 

Almost at the very moment the man was speak- 
ing, the rain ceased falling ; and for an instant the 
sun looked out from behind a cloud, his bright 
rays falling directly upon Phil like a harbinger of 
hope. 

“ Nobody killed ! ” the boy repeated, as if to 
convince himself the joyful intelligence was true. 
“ Did you hear that, Teddy ? ” 

“ Of course I did. You’ve been makin’ up your 
mind that pretty nigh everybody was dead, jest 


AFTER THE STORM. 


75 


’cause you couldn’t find Sam. But things are 
gettin’ straightened out — there’s Mr. Hannaford 
alone now ; ” and advancing a few paces, Master 
Dunham briefly stated the circumstances of the 
loss of the baby, and asked his advice as to what 
should be done. 

“ It will be impossible for some time to ascer- 
tain definitely who has been injured, because 
many of the wounded were carried into the neigh- 
boring buildings or to their homes. The proper 
course for you boys is to make a house-to-house 
search. Whether the little fellow was taken out 
injured, or safe and sound, he would, in the ab- 
sence of his parents, be given over to the care of 
some of the neighbors. It ought not take a very 
long time to ascertain all the facts.” 

Phil hardly waited for the gentleman to cease 
speaking before he started in the direction *of the 
village; and as Teddy followed he cried sharply: — 

“ Now you’re goin’ to rush ’round jest as you 
did before, an’ won’t half do the work. Let’s be- 
gin at the first house we come to, an’ tackle every 
one on both sides of the street.” 

“ Perhaps he’s home this very minute.” 

“ Well, now you know better than that. Ain’t 
your father an’ mother away, an’ the house 
locked?” 


76 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ Phil suddenly slackened his pace, as if to sig- 
nify that his friend should take charge of the busi- 
ness in hand ; and this Master Dunham promptly 
proceeded to do. 

“ You go on that side of the road, an’ I’ll take 
this. Don’t wait at a house only long enough to 
ask if they know anything about Sam ; ’cause we 
may have to hunt a good while before we find 
him, an’ this job must be finished by the time 
your father an’ mother get home.” 

The house-to-house search was begun ; and when 
half an hour had elapsed without any information 
having been gained, the hope which had so sud- 
denly come into Phil’s heart grew very faint. 

The replies to the eager questioning of the boys 
were the same ; no one had seen the baby, and 
each person appeared to be so preoccupied with 
his own suffering, or that of his neighbor, that 
but little sympathy was extended. 

There was so much sorrow and suffering among 
the citizens of Berwick that for the time being no 
one appeared to take any especial interest in those 
cases of distress where they were not immediately 
concerned. 

“ We never will find him ! ” Phil wailed, again 
giving way to despair. 

“ You won’t unless you stick right at the work. 


AFTER THE STORM. 


77 


Of course he’s somewhere in town, an’ we’re bound 
to come across him pretty soon. Here’s where 
Sadie Parker lives. Do you suppose any of her 
folks was hurt ? ” 

Phil went quickly toward the house. The fact 
that he had given the baby over to Sadie’s care 
made it appear to him as if she should be the one 
who could give the latest information regarding 
Sam, and he knocked impatiently at the door. 

It was opened by the girl herself ; and because 
her eyes were swollen as if with much weeping, 
Phil immediately believed she was grieving for 
little Sam. 

“ Is the baby hurt much ? ” he asked tremu- 
lously. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. Where 
was he found ? ” 

“ I thought he might be here. Teddy and I 
are asking at every house for him.” 

“ I haven’t seen him. Our Henry’s arm is 
broken, and he’s suffering terribly while we’re 
waiting for Dr. Pillsbury to come.” 

Then Sadie’s tears began to flow anew, and 
Phil turned away in disappointment. 

Like many others in Berwick on that day, his 
grief was so great as to prevent him from extend- 
ing sympathy. 


78 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


The searchers’ next stopping-place was at the 
post-office ; and here were congregated several citi- 
zens, discussing in all its details the terrible disas- 
ter which had visited the community. 

“ No ; I haven’t heard anything about your 
baby,” the postmaster said in reply to Teddy’s 
question. “ If he was hurt, most likely his name 
would have been among them that was sent to 
the papers. I’ve jest come from the telegraph- 
office, an’ they’re rushin’ the news out as fast as 
it can be learned. It all come so suddenlike that 
it seems as if pretty nigh everybody who hadn’t 
been injured was too much dazed to know any- 
thing.” 

“ And there’s little wonder at it,” one of the 
bystanders added. “ I was in the big tent my- 
self ; an’ I tell you when that canvas come down, 
wet, and heavy as so much iron, it knocked the 
senses out of me. I do hear, though, that nobody 
was killed ; and I guess old Jacob Merrill got hurt 
worst. Both his legs are broken, an’ at his time 
of life that’s a pretty serious matter.” 

“What beats me,” another said speculatively, 
“ is how all them tents could have come down so 
quick in a thunder-gust.” 

“ Did you call that blow a thunder-gust ? ” the 
postmaster asked. u It come pretty nigh bein’ a 


AFTER THE STORM. 


79 


tornado, accordin’ to my way of lookin’ at it. 
You see, it was mighty hot up to the time the 
clouds began to gather, and I reckon every rope 
was slack. Once the wind got in under the tents, 
an’ begun to lift ’em, the mischief was done. It’ll 
be a long day before the people of this town can 
be persuaded to go to another circus.” 

“ And it will take a good while for that show 
to get on the road again, judgin’ from the ap- 
pearance of things when I left,” the man who 
had been in the wreck added. “ It seemed to me 
as if pretty nigh everything was stove to pieces.” 

“ I should have thought there might have been 
a chance for the animals to get out.” 

“ They were mighty careful about that, I no- 
ticed. The canvas of the menagerie tent wasn’t 
pulled up in any such shape as the others, but 
handled gently. You must say this for the cir- 
cus people, — that they’ve worked like beavers 
to straighten things out. I’m told every man who 
had charge of the animals jumped right toward the 
cages before he knew whether the beasts had got 
loose or not. Joe Hanson says that the mena- 
gerie part of the show got the lightest part of the 
blow. The most mischief was done to the stables. 
Eleven horses killed outright, and a dozen or more 
hurt so badly they’ll have to be shot.” 


80 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


Phil did not wait to hear any further details. 
It was of little concern to him how much damage 
had been done, while he was yet in doubt as to 
the baby’s safety. 

“ It seems to me folks don’t make any account 
of poor little Sam,” he said to Teddy when they 
were on the street once more. “He might be 
killed a dozen times over, an’ nobody would 
care.” 

“ Why do you want to keep talkin’ about his 
bein’ dead ? Accordin’ to all accounts, there 
wasn’t anybody killed; an’ if Sam was hurt bad 
we’d have heard it long before this.” 

“ Then, where is he ? ” Phil asked fiercely. 
“ This town ain’t so big but that we ought to 
have heard of him before this.” 

“Wait till we’ve been over it once before you 
talk like that. We shall come across him pretty 
soon, if we keep at the work. Now let’s start in, 
an’ not stop till the job is finished ; ” and Teddy 
set the example by knocking at the door of the 
dwelling next adjoining the post-office. 


REPENTANCE. 


81 


CHAPTER VI. 

REPENTANCE. 

HEN in the course of their search the 
two boys had arrived in the vicinity of 
the Barton home, a sudden thought 
came into the mind of Phil, adding not a little 
to his troubles. 

“ Suppose father and mother have come back ? ” 
he said in a low, tremulous tone. “ I was in 
hopes I could find poor little Sam, and have him 
in the house when they got here." 

“ It ain’t likely they’ve left your Aunt Han- 
nah’s yet ; ’cause they wasn’t countin’ on cornin’ 
till night, an’ wouldn’t start in such a storm as 
we’ve been having. There’s no call to borrow 
trouble about that. You locked the doors, didn’t 
you ? ” 

“ Yes." 

“ Well, you’d better unlock ’em now ; ’cause we 
may b6 gone a good while, an’ it wouldn’t do to 
make your folks hang ’round outside in case they 
should get here sooner than we expect." 




82 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“But mother always wants the doors kept 
locked.” 

“ That’s ’cause she’s ’fraid somebody will come 
in an’ steal ; but I tell you, Phil, there’s nobody in 
Berwick mean enough to do anything like that on 
such a day as this has been.” 

Phil turned the key in the lock, and then ran 
hurriedly down the steps. 

In his present frame of mind the untenanted 
building was suggestive of a tomb, and he would 
not willingly even so much as have looked into it. 

The boys continued their search industriously, 
Teddy forcing his companion on when he gave 
way to despair and would have yielded wholly to 
his grief, and by sunset nearly every dwelling in 
Berwick had been visited ; but no tidings of little 
Sam were gained. 

Now even Master Dunham himself was dis- 
heartened ; and he exclaimed, as the two stood on 
the outskirts of the town, their task completed, — 

“ I declare, I don’t know what to make of this 
thing ! It seems like as if your Sam couldn’t 
have been in that tent nohow, else we would have 
heard of him before this, ’cause I’m certain we’ve 
asked everybody in the village.” 

“ But he was in the tent,” Phil cried in a grief- 
stricken tone. “ That doorkeeper told me so ; an’ 


REPENTANCE. 


• 88 

if it hadn’t been for him I could have got the 
poor little fellow out before the storm came up.” 

“ Then, where is he now ? ” and Teddy spoke as 
if .believing his friend could answer his question. 

“ He’s lost ! I tell you he’s lost, an’ we’ll never 
see him again ! ” Phil replied with difficulty, for 
the sobs were coming thick and fast. 

“Well, s’pose he is? He’s bound to be some- 
where, ain’t he ? He couldn’t have got out of this 
town, could he ? ” 

“ If he didn’t, why don’t we find him ?” 

“ That’s what beats me ! Now, see here, Phil, 
we know Sadie Parker left him about twelve 
o’clock; then the doorkeeper told you he was in 
the tent less than ten minutes before the storm 
came on, so it’s proved he must be here. There’s 
something we ought to done, but haven’t.” 

“ We’ve asked at every house in the village.” 

“ Yes, it seems as though that was true ; but 
yet we know it ain’t, else we’d have heard of him. 
We didn’t go to the mill.” 

“ But nobody’s workin’ there to-day.” 

“ I know it; yet we had no business to miss a 
single place — by gracious, Phil, we didn’t ask at 
the hotel ! ” 

“Of course not, ’cause the folks wouldn’t take 
our Sam there.” 


84 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ That’s jest where you may be makin’ a mis- 
take. So long as your father an’ mother ain’t 
at home, where could he be carried, when all the 
neighbors have got as much trouble as they can 
stagger under ? ” 

Teddy was now thoroughly excited, believing he 
had hit upon the only place where the baby would 
be found; but Phil displayed no animation. Al- 
though it seemed impossible little Sam could have 
been taken from the village, he was firmly con- 
vinced the child was not in Berwick. 

Master Dunham, believing he was on the right 
trail at last, literally forced his friend to accom- 
pany him at a swift pace until, breathless and 
panting, the two stood in the office of the hotel. 

The room was filled with citizens and attaches 
of the circus, all discussing the late disaster ; and 
it was some time before Teddy found an opportu- 
nity to speak with the proprietor. 

When at last he succeeded, instead of asking 
the question which had been repeated so often by 
himself and Phil during the afternoon, he said : — 

“ Little Sam Barton must have been brought 
here by a woman what belongs to the circus. He 
was with her in the dressing-room jest before the 
tents blowed down, an’ of course he’s in the house. 
Phil an’ I have come for him.” 


REPENTANCE. 


85 


“ How did he happen to be with the show peo- 
ple ? ” the landlord asked curiously. 

In the fewest possible words Teddy explained 
why the baby was left to the care of a stranger, 
and concluded by saying, — 

“ We’re bound to get him right away, Mr. 
Haley, ’cause Phil’s folks will be home pretty 
soon. Where is he ? ” 

“ Bless your soul, my boy, I don’t know. I 
didn’t have an idea he was anywhere ’round here. 
In fact, I never heard that he was among the miss- 
ing.” 

“ But he is missin’, an’ he’s here. Now, where 
is the woman ? ” 

“ Do you know what her name is ? ” 

“ Of course not, but she’s one of the show 
folks.” 

“ All the circus women in the house are on the 
second floor, but I haven’t seen Barton’s baby 
there.” 

Teddy did not wait for further information. 
Urging Phil on by tugging at his coat-sleeve, he 
hurried up the stairs, and on the second floor 
stopped at the first door and knocked. 

When it was opened he asked, — 

“ Where’s the baby what was in the dressing- 
room this afternoon ? ” 


86 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ Mile. Marie had him with her a few moments 
ago in Number 14.” 

'“What did I tell you?” Teddy cried triumph- 
antly, as he slapped Phil on the shoulder with no 
slight force ; and without waiting for a reply im- 
mediately began to search for Number 14. 

Owing to the gloom in the hallway it was sev- 
eral moments before he found the desired apart- 
ment ; but once in front of the door he knocked 
imperatively, and a voice responded, — 

“ Come in.” 

Teddy entered ; and before he was fairly inside 
the room, Phil darted past him, crying hysterically 
as he ran toward the bed on which a child lay 
sleeping peacefully, — 

“ 0 Sam ! Sam ! I have found you, and you 
ain’t dead ! ” 

“ He hasn’t received so much as a scratch, which 
is more than might be said had he remained with 
you,” a motherly-looking woman replied in a mat- 
ter-of-fact tone as Phil threw himself on his knees 
in front of the bed. “ I expected you would have 
come for him long before this ; his mother must 
be anxious.” 

“We didn’t know where you was, ma’am; an’ 
Sam’s mother is out of town, though it’s about 
time she was back,” Teddy replied ; and then it 


REPENTANCE. 


87 


suddenly occurred to him that he presented rather 
a disreputable appearance, bare-headed, and with 
his clothes hanging in rags. 

“ Were you in the tents when they blew 
down ? ” Mile. Marie asked, moving a short dis- 
tance away from where Phil was alternately 
laughing and crying over the baby. 

“ Indeed I was ; an’ I s’pose I’d oughter put on 
some different clothes long before this. But Phil 
was most crazy about poor little Sam ; and I didn’t 
want to let him go off by himself, ’cause he wasn’t 
fit to do anything. We’ve been huntin’ for you 
ever since the trouble began.” 

“We came directly to the hotel as soon as it 
was possible to make our way out from under the 
canvas, and I have wondered not a little why 
some one did not claim the baby.” 

Then Teddy explained all they had done in the 
way of searching for the missing child ; and by the 
time he concluded his story, Phil was sufficiently 
calm to understand what was said to him. 

“You should take the baby home at once,” 
Mile. Marie said as she kissed little Sam affection- 
ately. “His mother will be nearly frantic with 
grief if she comes back and he isn’t there.” 

“ You’ve been mighty good to look out for him 
so well,” said Teddy. 


88 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ I was glad of the opportunity, my boy, to be 
of some service in the terrible misfortune which 
has come upon us ; and if I have saved one 
mother’s baby from injury I am truly thankful. 
Now you had better take the little fellow home 
without delay.” 

Phil no longer thought Sam a heavy burden ; 
but, raising him in his arms, staggered out of the 
room, with a hymn of thanksgiving in his heart 
that his brother’s life had been spared. 

Little Sam was too sleepy to talk of the many 
wonderful things he had seen while in the dress- 
ing-room of the circus, even had Phil questioned 
him ; and the rescuers and rescued went rapidly 
and silently toward the Barton home, until an 
exceedingly happy thought, as he believed, came 
into Teddy’s mind. He said abruptly : 

“I reckon your folks’ll make a terrible row 
when they find that the baby was with the circus 
woman so long.” 

“Of course they will.” 

“ An’ you’ll most likely catch it hot for goin’ 
away from the house.” 

“The very worst father can do won’t be bad 
enough after what I did,” Phil replied stoutly. 
“ Now that the baby is all right, I’ll be almost 
glad if I get a whipping.” 


REPENTANCE. 


89 


Teddy indulged in a prolonged whistle, expres- 
sive of surprise or incredulity, it would be difficult 
to say which. 

“ It’s a fact,” Phil added earnestly. “ I had no 
business to lug this little chap down to the circus 
grounds, no matter how much I wanted to see the 
show, even if mother hadn’t told me to stay at 
home. But when she talked to me ’bout what I 
must do, I was all the time thinkin’ I’d go with 
you. It wouldn’t been quite so bad if I’d said 
right up an’ down that I wasn’t goin’ to mind 
her ; but to sneak away as I did, tryin’ to make 
myself believe I couldn’t keep the baby quiet at 
home, was awful mean, an’ I oughter pay for it.” 

“ Of course it ain’t any business of mine, an’ 
if you’re achin’ so bad for a whippin’ it would be 
tough if you didn’t get it. I was only thinkin’ 
you might keep this whole business quiet if you 
felt that way.” 

“ How could I keep it quiet ? ” 

“ By holdin’ your tongue. There’s been so 
many people hurt to-day that folks won’t think 
of talkin’ ’bout a baby’s bein’ lost, ’cause, as it’s 
turned out, it don’t ’mount to much of anything. 
You’ll get home before your father an’ mother do, 
so they can’t know but you’ve been there all day.” 

“ I wouldn’t do that, not if I knew for certain 


90 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


they’d never find out I was lyin’/’ Phil said very 
decidedly. “I’ve been the meanest kind of a 
sneak ever since last night, an’ the sooner I pay 
for it the quicker I’ll begin to feel better.” 

“ Well, I reckon you’ll have a high old time of 
it to-night, if that’s all you’re hankerin’ after,” 
Teddy said with an assumption of carelessness ; 
and then he dismissed the subject by offering to 
carry the baby a portion of the way. 

“ I’d rather keep him,” Phil replied as he pressed 
little Sam yet more closely. “ It seems like as if 
he’d been dead, an’ was only just come to life. If 
he weighed a hundred pounds I’d hold on to him.” 

“ Perhaps you don’t want me to go Jin y farther 
with you ? ” Teddy suggested after what seemed a 
long time of silence. 

“ Of course I do. If it hadn’t been for you I 
wouldn’t have found poor little Sam so quick. 
It seemed as if I didn’t know how to go to work ; 
but you made me stick right to one plan, else I’d 
been runnin’ ’round town this very minute, an’ he 
in the hotel waitin’ for me.” 

“ You did get kinder foolish, an’ that’s a fact,” 
Teddy replied quietly ; “ but you wasn’t the only 
one in Berwick what got mixed up over the wreck. 
I guess we’ll see a good deal of the circus before 
it is ready to leave.” 


REPENTANCE. 


91 


“ It don’t seem to me as if 1 ever wanted to 
look at a show again, after all that’s happened.” 

“ That’s ’cause you ain’t feelin’ jest right. 
Wait till to-morrow, an’ you’ll be there with the 
rest of us fellows, watchin’ the circus folks 
straightenin’ theirselves out.” 

Phil was quite positive it would be a pain rather 
than a pleasure to revisit the place where he had 
suffered so much mental anguish, but he did not 
attempt to argue the question. 

His mind was fully occupied with the problem 
of how he could best atone for his disobedience; 
and all else, save the happy fact that the baby 
was in his arms once more, seemed of little im- 
portance. 

When the boys arrived at the Barton home 
everything was as it had been left an hour pre- 
vious ; and Teddy remarked carelessly, — 

“ Your folks haven’t come yet. I knew they 
wouldn’t think of ridin’ in the storm. Now, if 
you want to keep quiet ’bout this thing, you’ve 
got a great chance.” 

“ But I don’t. I’ll tell mother the whole story 
just as soon as she gets here.” 

“ All right ; that’s your business, not mine. 
Say, shall you be over to the house in the 
mornin ’ ? ” 


92 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


“ I don’t know. Where are you goin’ now ? ” 

“Home; an’ I reckon it’s about time. The 
folks will think something happened to me if I 
don’t show up mighty soon.” 

“ Of course you must go ; I forgot you hadn’t 
seen your mother since the tents blew down. 
Why can’t you come back after a while ? I’d like 
to have you stay till father an’ mother get home.” 

“ I reckon I can if you want me bad. I didn’t 
know but you’d rather be alone to think ’bout the 
whalin’ you’re likely to get.” 

“ I’d sooner have some one with me,” Phil re- 
plied meekly. 

“ All right ; I’ll be back in a jiffy ! ” and Master 
Dunham hurried away as his friend and the baby 
entered the house. 

Ten minutes later, when Teddy returned, the 
Barton home presented a more cheerful appear- 
ance. Phil had lighted the lamps, built a fire in 
the cook-stove, and done all he could toward pre- 
paring supper. 

Little Sam, partially undressed, was sleeping 
peacefully in the kitchen rocking-chair which had 
been converted into a couch by a liberal use of 
pillows, while his brother worked industriously at 
whatever he fancied his mother would wish should 
be done. 


REPENTANCE. 


98 


“ This don’t look much the way it does over to 
our house,” Teddy said in a tone of approval. 
“ We’ve got four women there what were in the 
wreck ; an’ I guess they’re likely to stay till morn- 
in’, ’cause all of ’em live quite a piece out in the 
country, an’ their wagons were stove.” 

“ Had your mother been worry in’ about you ? ” 

“ No ; Sadie Parker stopped while she was goin’ 
to the doctor’s, an’ give her all the news. I don’t 
believe she’d fussed very much if Sadie hadn’t hap- 
pened along, ’cause there’s such a string of people 
’round. Are you tryiiT to get supper?” 

“ I thought I’d put the tea on, so’s it would be 
hot when mother come ; an’ that’s about all I can 
do, except set the table.” 

While Phil worked, Teddy repeated what he had 
heard concerning the disaster during his brief visit 
home ; but his friend did not give the recital that 
attention which Master Dunham thought it de- 
manded, and he said impatiently, — 

“ It seems as if you don’t care a snap how many 
folks were hurt, now that Sam is out of the 
scrape.” 

“ I do care, Teddy ; but just now I can’t think 
of very much except that the baby is here at home 
with me, where he would have been all day if I’d 
done what was right, an’ — hark ! ” 


94 


TEE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


The rumbling of carriage-wheels had attracted 
Phil’s attention, and a moment later he was stand- 
ing in the doorway laughing hysterically as his 
mother descended from the vehicle. 

Then he was clasped fervently in her arms, as 
she whispered, — 

“ I told your father, Philip, immediately after 
we learned the terrible news, that we need have no 
fear regarding the baby, for you would remain at 
home all day, knowing it was our desire.” 

How happy Phil would have been if he could 
truthfully have said he had obeyed her strictly ! 
But it was necessary to undeceive her, unless he 
was determined to follow Master Dunham’s advice; 
and he cried quickly, eager to tell the disagreeable 
story as soon as possible, — 

“ I didn’t stay at home, mother ! I did just 
what you thought I wouldn’t, an’ poor little Sam 
was lost all the afternoon ! ” 

Mrs. Barton appeared terrified for an instant, 
and then as she saw the baby, turned questioningly 
to the penitent boy. 

Without any attempt to excuse himself, Phil 
told the whole story, saying in conclusion, — 

“ Nothin’ can make me feel worse than I did 
while I was layin’ under the canvas thinkin’ per- 
haps poor little Sam was dyin’ or dead, an’ all 


REPENTANCE. 


95 


through me. Now that lie’s been found, I don’t 
believe I can cry a bit, no matter how much 
father whips me, ’cause I’m feelin’ so glad.” 

Greatly to Phil’s surprise, his mother kissed him, 
and then took the baby in her arms without a 
single word of reproof, Master Dunham staring at 
her meanwhile as if doubting the evidences of his 
own senses. 

He had fully expected to see Phil punished se- 
verely as soon as the story was told ; and, just 
for a moment, he felt really disappointed — not 
that he wished his friend should suffer, but be- 
cause it seemed to be the only possible conclusion 
to what he believed was a needless confession. 

A few moments later, while Mrs. Barton was 
silently rejoicing over the safety of her baby, Mas- 
ter Dunham took his departure ; and just outside 
the door he halted to whisper to Phil, who had ac- 
companied him thus far, — 

u It don’t look much like you was goin’ to get 
that floggin’ after all the fuss ; your mother is act- 
in’ jest as the women did what were in the wreck. 
Perhaps she’ll come ’round into shape by an’ by, 
an’ then you’ll catch it so much the stronger be- 
cause she didn’t start in the first thing.” 

Phil made no reply, and Teddy walked away 
whistling cheerily. 


96 


THE WRECK OF THE CIRCUS. 


It was not until noon on the following day that 
the two friends met again, and then they were 
among the large throng of spectators who stood 
idly by while the employees of the “ Great and 
Only” labored industriously to repair the damage 
done by the storm. 

“ Hello ! I thought you never wanted to see 
this show again ? ” Teddy cried as he suddenly dis- 
covered Phil near him. 

“ It seemed that way last night ; but when 
father said I might come down for a little while 
it seemed foolish to miss the chance.” 

“ Did you get a floggin’ last night ? ” 

“ No” 

“ What ? Did your father let you off after your 
tellin’ ’bout the whole scrape ? ” and Master Dun- 
ham’s eyes were opened wide with astonishment. 

“ What he said to me was worse than anything 
else could have been, an’ if ” — 

“ I reckon he talked mighty rough.” 

“ Indeed he didn’t ; he was a good deal nicer 
than I deserved, an’ that was what made me feel 
meaner than if I’d been whipped. You better 
believe, Teddy Dunham, that I’ll be careful after 
this to do as I’m told ! S’pose poor little Sam had 
been killed, an’ through my fault ? ” 

“ But he wasn’t, so what’s the use talkin’ ’bout 


REPENTANCE. 


97 


it ? I did think your father was a square kind 
of a man ; but it don’t look much that way, if he 
let you off with nothin’ but a lot of talk, what 
can’t hurt anybody ; ” and Master Dunham turned 
away with a gesture of disapprobation. 
















